


Stockholm Syndrome

by pinecontents



Series: No Way Out [1]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Alternate Universe - Never Met, Angst, Blood, Enemies to Friends, Hospitals, Hostage Situations, Kidnapping, M/M, Scars, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:07:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 38
Words: 49,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22441543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinecontents/pseuds/pinecontents
Summary: The trunk popped. Link gathered himself to leap out as soon as it opened, but as soon as a sliver of light appeared, he heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.“Close your eyes anddo not move,” came the order from whoever was outside.(Link's side of the events in Lima Syndrome)
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Series: No Way Out [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1614850
Comments: 247
Kudos: 197





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to @sohox for all her help and support and typo fixing.
> 
> For Rhett's point of view, go read Lima Syndrome.

“Ugh. That’s enough fun for me today.” Link dropped his glasses on his desk with a clatter and rubbed his eyes. They were tired and dry from hours of staring at his monitor. He’d been trying to figure out a way to clarify an ambiguous alert in the user interface he was designing, and it just wasn’t coming to him. Maybe he’d figure it out over the weekend.

Link put his glasses back on and dumped his things into his messenger bag. It was a grayish, overcast day, and he glanced up at the sky at he got into his truck. He hoped it didn’t start raining until _after_ he got back from walking his dog.

He drove home, classic 90s country playing on the radio. It was only about a fifteen minute drive to his house. Link lived in a pretty nice suburb, in a house that was probably wonderfully stylish when it was built in the 80s, but was pretty dated now. He loved it, though, glass block shower surround and all.

One of the best things about his house was its proximity to a very nice park. It had a playground (that would surely be empty on a chilly gray evening with threatening rain), a soccer field, and a long meandering path that wove through a stand of trees on the far side of the park.

Link pulled into the driveway and went to the front door. He heard a little _woof_ and the clatter of nails on tile as Jade danced excitedly behind the door. She always greeted him when he came home.

Link grinned and unlocked the door. “Hey, girl!” he said as he dumped his bag next to the door and leaned over to scratch her ears. She licked his fingers. “Let’s take a spin around the park real quick before it starts to rain, huh?” He grabbed her leash from its hook and clipped it on.

He was glad he had his sweater as they walked to the park. Jade trotted along, sniffing at trees and fire hydrants. Link’s thoughts were still on his work problem, and he ambled along on autopilot, stopping only to pick up after Jade and throw the bag into a nearby trash can. There were a couple teens kicking a ball around the soccer field, but otherwise the park was empty.

They’d reached the part of the path that went through the stand of trees. It wasn’t entirely isolated. A small section of it emerged near a side road, and there was a little parking lot there, just enough space for two or three cars.

There was just one car there now, an older silver sedan with two men leaning against it. Link, lost in thought, paid it no attention until one of the men approached him.

“Charles Neal?” he asked. He was a big man, fleshy in a way that suggested strength rather than ill health, with pasty skin and hair shorn close. Link looked up, startled out of his user interface thoughts by the use of his legal name.

“Uh, yeah.” He furrowed his brow. Jade took the opportunity to sit at his feet. “Do I know y--”

The man reached out and backhanded Link, almost casually. The force of the blow knocked him to the ground, dazed. He lay crumpled there, head ringing. There was blood dripping onto the sidewalk from a cut on his cheekbone. He was vaguely aware that he’d dropped Jade’s leash, she was no longer near him, and the big man was going through his pockets.

“Yeah, it’s him,” he said once he looked in Link’s wallet. “Let’s go.” The big man grabbed Link and hauled him upright, wrenching his arms behind his back and pushing him towards the car, where the second, smaller man stood next to the open trunk.

Link snapped into wakefulness, flooded with terror and adrenaline. “No!” he shrieked, trying to twist himself out of the big man’s arms, but he was held firm. He tried kicking his shins instead, but the smaller man walked over and hit Link, the base of his palm meeting the middle of Link’s nose with a distinct crunch. Link crumpled again, and the two men tipped him into the trunk and slammed the lid shut. Darkness enveloped him.

~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~

“Hey! _Hey!_ Help, somebody!” Link screamed, pounding on the inside of the trunk. “Let me _go_!” 

It was stupid and useless, he knew. They’d thrown him into the trunk. Of _course_ they weren’t going to let him out.

The car started driving. Link switched his attention from yelling to searching for the trunk release lever. All newer cars had them, he knew that, but he didn’t know how old this car was. It was pitch black in the trunk. Link was pretty sure that trunk release levers were supposed to glow in the dark, but he couldn’t see anything. He felt all over, and didn’t feel anything either. The trunk was too small for him to turn around and feel by his feet. He was trapped.

Link had no idea who these men were, or what they wanted. They’d been waiting for him, so presumably they’d been watching him. He racked his brains, but didn’t remember noticing anything suspicious. He was completely at a loss.

He didn’t know how long he was in the trunk. A long time. Four or five hours, he thought. It was easy to lose track of time in the dark. Link spent the rest of the ride smearing saliva and blood from his cut cheek and broken nose on every surface he could reach (in the theory that perhaps it would eventually be DNA evidence) and screaming and pounding on the trunk whenever they slowed at a stop light, to no avail.

Finally, the car stopped for good. The engine turned off and Link felt a surge of terror mixed with hope. Maybe, just maybe, he could make a run for it. 

The trunk popped. Link gathered himself to leap out as soon as it opened, but as soon as a sliver of light appeared, he heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

“Close your eyes and _do not move_ ,” came the order from whoever was outside. Link complied. He wasn’t an action movie badass. He was an industrial engineer, a guy whose idea of an exciting evening was binging a new show with his dog on his lap. The trunk opened and someone roughly grabbed his head and tied a blindfold over his eyes. Link wondered, absently, where his glasses had gone. It probably didn’t matter. He wouldn’t really have much use for them once he was murdered.

These guys knew what they were doing, he had to admit. They manhandled him out of the trunk, slapped him again, _hard_ , and dragged him through first one door, across an open space, and through another door before dropping him onto a couch.

Link lay still, frozen in terror and only semiconscious. “So who is this guy?” someone asked. A new voice. Someone, probably New Voice, pulled the bandana off. Link kept his eyes closed and pretended he was out cold. “Jesus Christ, what did you do to him?”

“He didn’t wanna cooperate.” That was the big guy with pasty skin.

“This is Charles Neal.” A second new voice, this once with a bit of an accent that Link couldn’t place. He might actually be slipping into unconscious now. It was getting hard to follow the conversation.

“The guy who owns that big news channel?” That was New Voice, who seemed to be nearly as ignorant as Link himself.

“His son. They have the same name,” said Accent.

“Ah,” replied New Voice. There was a pause, or maybe Link actually passed out for a moment, because the next thing he knew, he heard the beep of an electronic lock followed by a closing door.

He was alone. Link relaxed a little, trying to get more comfortable, but something held him back from opening his eyes. Maybe it was his splitting headache, or maybe it was the futile little hope burning deep in his heart that maybe, maybe this was just a bad dream, and if he fell deeper into sleep he could get past it…

The couch lurched. “Gah!” Link startled upright. The movement made his head pound and sent a wave of nausea crashing over him. He curled forward with a groan, clutching his middle.

“Knew you were fakin’,” said New Voice. Link glanced up. New Voice was a man about his age, with wild curls and a wild beard. He wore skinny jeans and a flannel shirt with brown sneakers, and was quite possibly one of the tallest people Link had ever seen. Link swallowed, hard.

“I’m gonna throw up.”


	2. Chapter 2

New Voice grabbed Link by the arm and shoved him towards an open door he hadn’t noticed before. It was a bathroom, and Link gratefully flipped up the lid of the toilet. The door shut behind him as he heaved--apparently New Voice didn’t want to see or hear him throw up, which was fine with Link. He could use a moment by himself.

Link wiped his mouth and flushed. He went to the sink and paused. It was a white plastic utility sink, with a smallish mirror crookedly glued to the wall above it. He glanced around. This bathroom was more like a janitor’s closet with a toilet in it, because there was another sink at floor level, set into the corner with a stainless steel surround and a faucet with a rubber hose set about waist high above it. It kind of reminded him of the small dog stations at the DIY dog wash at Jade’s vet.

 _Jade_ …What if she got hit by a car? She didn’t have her tag on. She was microchipped, but... Link tried to push aside his worry for her. He couldn’t help her from in here.

He washed his hands, rinsed out his mouth, and inspected himself in the little mirror. There was blood _all over_ his face, and there were drops splattered on his shirt as well. Link washed his face, gingerly, trying his best to avoid reopening the cut on his cheek. There was a broken blood vessel in the eye above it, which looked awful, but Link had had one before, years ago (from sneezing too hard), and knew it wasn’t dangerous. It just looked awful. 

His nose, though… Link wiped at the dried blood around his nostrils and nearly threw up again. It _hurt_. His nose was swollen, and a few cursory pokes pinpointed the problem to the bridge of his nose. He could feel broken edges of bone grinding against each other.

Once he was cleaned up, Link gave himself a once over. His sweater was ripped and there were smears of grease on his khakis, but he was otherwise mostly unhurt. He pulled up his shirt to check a particularly sore spot on his ribs, and found a scraped, swollen lump that promised to be black and blue tomorrow. Link could tell there were a few more on his legs, but didn’t bother looking.

He gave himself one last glance in the mirror. He looked scared and unhappy, but he wasn’t covered in blood any more. Link opened the door to find New Voice lounging on the couch with his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, waiting patiently. “What… what’s going on? Who are you people?” Link asked.

“Well, Charles, you’ve been kidnapped,” answered New Voice.

 _No shit._ “No, that… I mean, _obviously_ I’ve been kidnapped, I was just wondering _why_. And my name isn’t Charles.”

A little flicker of something crossed New Voice’s face. Link couldn’t quite catch it, because he didn’t have his glasses on. He looked around the room instead. There wasn’t much to see. A sloppily drywalled room with no windows, housing a couch that had seen better days, a full size air mattress, a folding card table, two resin patio chairs, and a couple floor lamps.

“You’re not Charles Neal?” asked New Voice.

Link mentally rolled his eyes. This guy had no idea what was going on. “I mean, legally, yeah. But it’s Link, really. Lincoln. My middle name. Charles is my dad. He kind of has a monopoly on it.”

“He has a monopoly on a number of things.”

Something clicked in Link’s head. The guy with the accent had mentioned Link’s dad, who owned one of the big 24 hour news cycle channels, a few smaller channels, and a number of print and online publications. He was absurdly wealthy. “Oh. Are you gonna want him to pay a ransom? Is that what this is about?”

“Perhaps,” replied New Voice.

“You know we’re not on speaking terms, right?” Link asked. They hadn’t been for years now. Not that they’d ever had a particularly good relationship, what with Link not wanting to follow in his father’s media footsteps, but the final straw had apparently been when Link brought his then-boyfriend to Thanksgiving five years ago. Everyone in his extended family had been fine with it, and his dad got through dinner with a gritted jaw, only for all hell to break loose the next day over the phone. Link made it known he would be willing to reconcile if his father apologized, but he’d never even reached out. He’d essentially disowned Link, and Link didn’t know how his dad would react to a ransom request. Probably not well.

New Voice shrugged, obviously not caring. That broke Link a little more, and he went to sit at the card table. His head and face throbbed, and he pillowed his head on his arms. He could see New Voice through a little gap under one arm, and he studied the other man. He looked extremely relaxed, legs stretched out in front of him and head leaned back on the couch, eyes closed.

Link wondered what he was thinking about, and what kind of man he was. New Voice didn’t seem to know anything about Link (like, even that he existed), but maybe that was an act. He didn’t seem violent… yet. There was something a little sarcastic and uncertain about him. Out of everyone Link had interacted with so far, he supposed he hated New Voice the least. That wasn’t saying much, of course.

He closed his eyes and tried to let go of the thoughts and fears running through his head.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Link had just concluded that the earliest anyone was going to miss him was Monday, when he failed to show up to work, when there was a knock at the door. New Voice stood up. “Get on the floor.”

“The floor?” Link repeated stupidly.

“Yeah, like you’re being arrested.” That didn’t really help. Link had never been arrested, so he just stared at him in confusion until New Voice interlaced his hands behind his head.

“Oh.” Link carefully lowered himself to the floor and stretched his legs out underneath the card table. The floor was bare, dirty cement, and he brushed a clean space to lay his uninjured cheek down on.

“I’ll be gone for a few minutes. Don’t get up until I come back and tell you to, understood?”

“Okay.” Link couldn’t see the door from where he lay, but he heard a beep, followed by the door opening and closing, and then another beep. He was alone. Link lifted his head and looked around. The room looked the same as it had before. It reminded him very much of the semifinished basement of the house he’d shared with two roommates for his first few years after school.

He briefly considered getting up and messing with the electronic lock, but figured that New Voice and whoever knocked were right outside and might come back any moment. Besides, all the adrenaline from earlier had worn off and Link was in a lot of pain and very, very tired. He lay his head back onto the cool cement and closed his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

A little while later, there was another beep. Link looked up and saw it was New Voice, alone, with a plastic shopping bag in hand. “Get up and go sit on the couch,” he said.

Link pulled himself out from under the card table and leaned over into a loose forward bend, trying to stretch his lower back a little. Several hours folded up in a trunk hadn’t been kind to it. There was a satisfying little _pop_ as he stood up. New Voice dropped the shopping bag next to Link as he sat and then hauled one of the patio chairs over to sit in. There was a first aid kit in the bag, and he got it out and started sorting through the contents. Link carefully kept his gaze fixed on the far wall in an attempt not to freak out, but he could tell his hands were trembling. He wasn’t a very good patient.

New Voice noticed. “You don’t have to be scared of me, man. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“That’s what the other guy said,” Link mumbled under his breath.

“Yeah, well, he’s an asshole,” New Voice replied as he pulled a few things out of the kit. Link was interested to hear some actual disgust in his tone. Either New Voice was an excellent actor, or he really did dislike his compatriots.

“What are you gonna do?” Link asked.

New Voice dribbled some liquid onto a gauze pad. “Fix your cut. This is gonna hurt, but try not to move, okay?”

Link opened his mouth to reply, but New Voice slapped the gauze over his injured cheek before he could reply. “Ah, fuck!” It _burned_. Link squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth.

“Sorry.” The other man carefully cleaned the wound and then took Link’s chin in his hand to turn his face. Link jerked back and opened his eyes. New Voice looked back at him levelly. He had gray-green eyes and brows much darker than his hair, which he raised a bit in askance. _He said he wasn’t gonna hurt me_ , Link thought, and closed his eyes again. This time, he didn’t move when his face was gently turned this way and that.

“This should really have stitches. I’ll do the best I can, but you’re probably going to have a scar,” New Voice said finally. Link’s stomach dropped. Even if he got rescued in the next five minutes, there would always be a physical reminder of this day, right there on his face.

“Oh.” Link’s voice broke a little. He closed his eyes as the other man snipped something with the little scissors from the kit.

“Sorry,” New Voice said again, softer this time. He sounded sincere. Link could almost believe that maybe he wasn’t as awful as the others. “This is gonna suck, so brace yourself, okay? And try not to screw your face up too much.”

Link nodded and took a few deep breaths. “Okay,” he said finally. Whatever the other man did to his face hurt a _lot_ , but Link did his best to stay perfectly still, grabbing so tightly onto the couch cushion that his knuckles creaked. Humiliatingly, tears gathered behind his eyelids and dripped down his face.

Finally, after what seemed like a very long time, New Voice said, “That’s it. All done.” The patio chair scooted back and Link opened his eyes. The other man nodded at him approvingly and handed him a gauze pad. “You’re tougher than you look.”

Link wiped his face and laughed a little hysterically. He certainly didn’t _feel_ tough. He felt scared, exhausted, and weak. “Is that a compliment?”

“Yeah.” New Voice smiled a little. It actually made Link feel a little better. New Voice was kind of growing on him. 

“Where’d you learn to do that?” Link asked. Maybe he’d learn something about the other man from his answer. Link felt his swollen cheek. The cut was closed with what felt like little strips of cloth tape. “Ow.”

“Youtube,” New Voice answered. Well, that didn’t help Link any. He’d learned all kinds of things from Youtube himself, everything from how to make pie dough from scratch to replacing the transmission on his washing machine to the best way to sew on a button. New Voice cleaned up his supplies. “Got anything else that needs attention?”

Link thought about all the minor injuries lurking under his clothes. “Bruises and scratches.” There was one other thing, too. “And my nose is broken, but you can’t do anything about that.”

New Voice opened up the first aid kit again and pulled out a chemical cold pack. Link gave it a hard squeeze to activate it and held it to his face. Blessed, relieving coolness soothed him, and he relaxed, just a little. “There’s some painkillers, too, if you want,” New Voice nodded at the little pile of stuff on the cushion next to Link.

Link wanted. He sorted through everything and came up with a bottle of ibuprofen. There was also a package of Reese’s Cups, his favorite. Link suddenly realized he was very, very hungry. “Can I eat these?”

New Voice smiled at him, a _real_ smile. His cheeks rounded and crinkled up his eyes. It completely changed his face. Oh no. Maybe he was actually nice? “You can eat any of that you want. Hell, if you want takeout, I’ll have Portelli go out and get it.”

Link tilted his head. Portelli must be one of the other guys, but…

New Voice touched his own cheek, where Link was injured. “That’s the guy who… He wasn’t supposed to do that.”

 _Portelli_. The big guy with the pasty complexion and crew cut. The one who hit Link in the park. Who made him drop Jade’s leash. Portelli. Link memorized the name, filed it away for his future police statement.

Link decided to take a chance. New Voice seemed like he might be okay, in which case… “Can we send him to Chipotle?”

“Hell yeah.” New Voice grinned at him again, and Link got the idea that _he_ was starting to like him. It was a strange feeling.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Link lay flat on his back on the air mattress with the cold pack draped over the bridge of his nose. The 800mg of ibuprofen was kicking in and he’d started to feel better, at least physically. 

New Voice ordered him not to move while he was out of the room, but Link honestly had no desire to. This was as comfortable as he’d been all day. He took stock of his situation.

He was locked in a room, probably in a basement, given the lack of windows. Link had no idea where it was. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in the trunk, if they’d driven straight to their destination, or if they’d taken a circuitous route. Outside of the room were at least three people, two of whom had beaten and kidnapped him. The third person, the man with the accent Link hadn’t been able to place, knew who Link was and seemed to be in charge.

Inside the room… the man Link thought of as New Voice (he resolved to ask what his name was when he returned) seemed to be a little out of the loop. He didn’t know who Link was, but he knew that there would be a ransom. And he seemed to dislike his associates. It was an odd mix of circumstances.

And he seemed to like Link, at least a little. Or maybe _like_ wasn’t quite the word. He felt sorry for Link, maybe? That seemed more accurate. New Voice was sympathetic to Link’s plight.

Link wasn’t afraid of New Voice, he realized. The most aggressive thing he’d done was kick the couch and call Link out for faking unconsciousness. After that, he’d been… not polite, not welcoming, but not cruel, either. The way he’d treated Link while bandaging his face had almost been kind. He smiled, and agreed to get Chipotle…

 _Shit_ , Link thought. He was grabbing on to the smallest hints of kindness during the worst experience of his life. It was the kind of thing that could easily blow up in his face.

Link resolved to put up some walls.


	4. Chapter 4

New Voice didn’t say anything when he came back in the room, just settled back on the couch with his legs stretched out and his head leaned back. Link pulled the cold pack off his face and peeked at him. He wondered what was going on in the other man’s head, if his thoughts were as wild as Link’s.

The Chipotle arrived quickly, and Link’s chicken burrito was still warm. Therefore, Link concluded, his prison was somewhere near civilization. That didn’t help much, because there were Chipotles all over, but it was something.

Link dug in right away. He was starving. New Voice had a bowl that looked like it was fifty percent steak and fifty percent pinto beans. He watched Link with mild interest and then seemed to have a sudden thought.

“Oh! I got your glasses.” He pulled them out of his pocket and handed them over to Link, who put down his burrito to inspect them. They were bent a little askew, there was a scratch on one lens, and they were smeared with blood. The glasses were in bad shape, but it was better than them being lost forever, like he’d thought.

“Thank you.” Link tried them on and winced. The bridge of his nose was too swollen and painful to wear them. He folded them up and tucked them in his shirt pocket, under his sweater. 

They didn’t talk for the rest of the meal. It didn’t take long. New Voice was a very fast eater, and Link felt like he’d never been hungrier in his life.

When he finished, Link looked across the table at New Voice, who was regarding him thoughtfully. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You can ask. I might not answer.”

“What’s your name?” Link asked.

There was the slightest pause before New Voice answered. “James.”

Link narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “That’s not really your name, is it?”

“It is.” Well, it would have to do. Link had to call him something. “Now I have a question for you,” said James.

Link gestured for him to go ahead.

“Why don’t you talk to your dad?”

Ugh, this. Link thought for a moment. How could he sum it up? There were so many reasons… “He’s the one who won’t talk, not me, and he says it’s ‘cause I didn’t go into broadcasting, which is true, but it’s also ‘cause I’m gay. There’s a lot of other shit tied up in that, of course, but basically it all boils down to the fact that I’m my own person and he can’t fucking stand that.” Link found he didn’t mind if James knew he was gay, although he hoped it wasn’t a mistake to tell him.

James nodded, like that was totally understandable. He asked Link about his work (designing user interfaces for dangerous systems), and Link asked James how he became a kidnapper.

“When I was thirteen, I shoplifted a Walkman from K-Mart,” James said airily, with a dismissive gesture. “And thus began my life of crime.”

“I guess you do have to start somewhere,” Link replied. It did make sense. “Work your way up from Walkmen to cars to jewels to people.” He started to laugh at the absurdity of the idea, and surprised himself by bursting into tears. Link dropped his face into his hands and sobbed. He hadn’t cried like this in years.

“Uh. That’s not… I… please don’t cry.” Link glanced up to see a dismayed, helpless expression on James’s face. For the first time since his ordeal started, a flash of white hot anger swept over Link.

James was _not_ nice, he was _not_ Link’s friend. “‘Don’t cry’? I came home from work and took my dog to the park, next thing I knew, I was in the trunk of a car with a broken nose, now I’m locked in this fucking basement waiting for my asshole dad to pay up, _maybe_ , and if that wasn’t bad enough, I have to have some fucking criminal for a roommate? My face hurts and I’m scared and I don’t know what happened to my dog! So don’t tell me not to cry,” Link snarled.

James got up without a word and got a wad of toilet paper from the bathroom. He gave it to Link, who felt both grateful and resentful. It hurt, badly, when Link blew his nose, and there was blood on the tissue. He pinched his nose to stop a potential nosebleed.

James looked genuinely unhappy. “Okay, look. I’m not gonna make you any promises, but I will do my best to make this the least awful for you that I can. Yeah, it’s gonna suck, but if you need anything, let me know, and I’ll try to get it. And I’ll see if I can find out anything about your dog.”

Link just scowled at him and peeked at the tissue. No more blood.

James sighed. He seemed just as resigned to his fate as Link. “I know you don’t trust me. You don’t have to. But at the very least, you don’t have to worry about me hurting you.”

“I guess.” Link stuck his tissue into the plastic shopping bag with the Chipotle garbage. “What time is it?”

James checked his watch. It was a smartwatch, Link noted with interest. Maybe he could get a hold of it somehow. “10:17.”

“I’m gonna go to sleep,” Link said. “I had a really long day.” He yawned hugely.

“Seems like an understatement. You get the couch.” James threw a blanket at Link, who looked at the disgusting couch in dismay. He hadn’t realized that James would be staying with him overnight.

There wasn’t anything he could do, though, so Link sat down and got as ready for bed as he could. At home, he slept in just his t-shirt and underwear, but that absolutely wasn’t going to happen here. He took off his sweater and dress shirt and pulled off his shoes.

“What’s that on your socks?” James asked.

Link stuck out his feet and admired his socks. “Phases of the moon.” They were one of his favorites.

James shoved the air mattress in front of the door and kicked off his sneakers. “Cock socks.” He had socks covered with little roosters.

In spite of his vow to put up boundaries, Link smiled a little. They were the kind of socks he’d buy. “Nice.” The fleece blanket was worn, but at least it seemed clean, unlike the couch, which smelled like mildew and cigarettes and was covered in alarming stains. Link wrapped the blanket around himself so as not to touch the disgusting upholstery with his bare skin.

James paused with his hand over the light switch. “You ready? It’s gonna be real dark.”

Why was he asking? It wasn’t like Link had a choice. “Yes.”

James turned off the lamp and Link was enveloped in pure, utter blackness. He whimpered. For a moment, he was back in the trunk, searching in vain for the trunk release lever. _Pull yourself together!_ He ordered himself. _Do not freak out now. Show him you aren’t scared._ Link took a few deep breaths. “Goodnight, James.

“Goodnight.” James sounded a little amused. Link wondered what that meant for about two seconds before he passed out.


	5. Chapter 5

Link didn’t dream that night. It seemed like mere moments after he fell asleep that he was awakened by a knock on the door. He was completely disoriented. For a moment he thought he was at home, and then he remembered: he was imprisoned for ransom. Right. Well, there was one thing he could find out. “Wha… what time is it?”

There was a bloom of light as James checked his watch. It was shockingly bright in the black room. “5:23am. Watch out, I’m turning on the light.”

Link pulled the blanket over his head. It wasn’t thick enough to block the light, but it did help ease him into it.

“Stay on the couch, okay? Do not get up,” James ordered, and disappeared out the door.

Link considered his options for a moment, and decided to test James. Instead of lying in the same position, he stretched out luxuriously. The couch was too small for him to lay out full length. Then he sat up, wrapped the blanket around himself, and waited.

James returned in a few minutes. “What was that?” Link asked.

“Breakfast,” James replied. “Hope you like Egg McMuffins.” He noticed that Link had changed positions and scowled at him. “I told you not to move.”

“No, you said to stay on the couch, so I stayed on the couch.” Link tried not to sound smug. It was like the stupid _I’m not touching you!_ Game that he played with his cousins on road trips. “Can I go pee now?”

This was the test, to see how James reacted to having his authority challenged. Link was pretty sure he wouldn’t get violent--after all, he’d promised multiple times that he wasn’t going to hurt Link--but he wanted to try something low stakes first.

“I don’t appreciate that ‘follow the letter of the law, but not the spirit’ bullshit, Neal, so don’t press your luck,” James said. Link could tell that he was irritated. “But yeah, go ahead.”

 _So he’s kind of a pushover_ , Link thought as he went into the bathroom. That was the mildest threat and scolding he’d ever had. It was good news. Maybe he could win James over somehow.

He inspected himself in the little mirror as he washed his hands. Overnight, his broken nose has spread into two matching shiners, a perfect purple half moon under each eye. Combined with the bandaged cut on his cheekbone, he looked like a guy on a TV show who’d lost a bar fight.

“You should see the other guy, though,” Link giggled to himself quietly. It was an absurd thought. He’d never win a fight.

James had taken his spot on the couch, so Link grabbed his blanket and sat at the table instead. It was so fucking early. “Do you always get up this early?” 

“No.” James sounded tired, too. Link put his head down on the table and pulled the blanket over his head. He’d slept through a lot of high school classes like this, and he started to drift off right away.

There was a knock on the door. “Stay there. Head down,” James ordered. Link nodded, mostly asleep. He wasn’t going anywhere.

There was a mumble of conversation at the door. James returned and dumped a McDonalds in front of Link. His nostrils twitched ( _ow_ ) at the smell of sausage and coffee and he lifted his head. James was already halfway through a McMuffin. Link took one and stared at it.

“What, you a Burger King man?” James took a swallow of coffee as he watched Link. He watch Link a _lot_.

The familiarity of a McDonalds breakfast made Link want to cry. “I don’t wanna be here,” he mumbled, and took a bite of his McMuffin to distract himself. It was barely warm, so Link guessed the Chipotle was closer to his prison than the McDonalds.

“I know.” Once again, Link got the feeling that James felt bad for him. He ate his McMuffin, more out of obligation than hunger. Once he finished, James said, “I gotta go talk to the boss. Willen’s gonna stay here with you while I do.”

A frisson of fear went through Link. That was a new name. The other kidnapper? “He’s the short one, right?” The one who broke Link’s nose.

“Yeah. He’s not gonna hurt you, though, unless you do something stupid. Just go back to sleep.” James kicked the air mattress in his direction. Link looked at him for a moment, incredulous. There was no way he was going to be able to fall asleep, but pretending was probably his best option, so he lay down and covered himself with the blankets. To his surprise, they smelled good, kind of citrusy. Maybe James used some kind of hair product? Link liked it. It was comforting.

He dozed off almost immediately.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Get up.” The air mattress wobbled under Link. He blinked a few times and pulled the blankets down. The smaller kidnapper, Willen (another name for Link to remember for his police statement), stood over him with one foot on the air mattress. He held a rolled up newspaper and cheap digital camera.

If it had been James asking, Link might have pushed back or asked why, but Willen had broken his nose barely twelve hours ago. It seemed prudent to follow his orders, so Link reluctantly climbed to his feet. He was several inches taller than Willen, but probably no heavier. “Now what?” Link asked uncertainly.

“Now, we have a little photoshoot,” Willen replied, hoisting the camera a little.

“What?” Link was totally lost. Willen held out the newspaper and Link took it. It was that day’s edition of USA Today, which didn’t give him any clues as to where they were.

“Documentation. Gotta prove that you’re alive and well, right?” Willen gave Link an expression that was probably supposed to be a smile. He had extremely dark eyes, almost black, and they made Link think of the quote from Jaws. _He's got lifeless eyes, black eyes, like a doll's eyes._ Even if Link hadn’t already been acquainted with him, he probably still would have been afraid of him.

“That’s… okay,” Link said. He’d been about to say it was cliche, which was true. Instead, he just held the paper up in front of him like he was posing for a mugshot. 

“Not there.” Willen directed him to stand in front of one of the walls. Behind Link was nothing but smooth, unmarked drywall. Willen took a few mugshot style pictures before having Link lean over for some details of his black eyes, bloody sclera, and bandaged cheek. 

Link’s middle clenched with anxiety whenever Willen got close, but he tried not to show it. He just wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible and go back to sleep. Willen stepped back and scrolled through the pictures on the camera. Link stood there uncomfortably. He hoped they were done. 

His hope was in vain. Willen looked up. “Clothes off,” he said.

The newspaper slipped from Link’s fingers and fanned itself out of the floor. His stomach dropped. “I… no!” He would have backed away, but he was already against the wall. The last time someone forced Link to take his clothes off, it started as a prank during fraternity rush in his first year at college and turned into a humiliating and traumatizing hazing ritual that he had nightmares about for years.

Link ended up not joining the fraternity.

“I’m not going to ask again,” Willen said. He didn’t issue a threat. He didn’t need to.

Link peeled off his t-shirt. His hands shook so badly he could barely unbutton his khakis, let alone grab the zipper pull. When he had the fly down, Link hooked his thumbs into the waistband and started to take off his pants and boxer briefs.

“Uh, leave the underwear,” Willen said quickly. In the back of Link’s mind, behind all the panicky static, he was amused at how uncomfortable Willen was at the thought of seeing his dick. _Clothes off, no homo_.

At least Willen didn’t need closeups of Link’s bruises. Apparently there were a lot on his back that he couldn’t see in the crappy little bathroom mirror (maybe that’s why his back was so stiff?), though, because Willen took a lot of pictures of it. 

Willen flicked through the pictures again. He shut off the camera and stuck it in his pocket. “We’re done here,” he said. “Don’t bother me until McLaughlin gets back.”

Link picked up his shirt and pulled it on as quickly as possible. “You mean James?”

Once again, there was the tiniest of pauses, confirming to Link that James was not actually named James. “Whatever.” Willen gathered up the paper and settled onto the couch. 

Link practically dove back onto the air mattress and drew the blankets up over his head. The citrusy smell was still there, and he held the blanket close to his nose. _That wasn’t so bad,_ he thought, and then realized he was shaking all over and his cheeks were wet. He hadn’t even realized he was crying.

He curled up, as small as he could, and wished he were anywhere else.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you aren't also reading Lima Syndrome, you should! It's the same story from Rhett's point of view.

There was a knock at the door. Willen stood up. “Be back tomorrow,” he said.

Link’s heart stopped. “What?”

“Daily documentation. Don’t get up.” With that, Willen was gone. There was a beep. The door opened and closed, followed by another beep. After a few moments, the process repeated.

James was back. Link heard the couch springs groan under his weight and newspaper crackle as he picked it up.

The documentation process hadn’t started out badly, but being forced to strip had sent Link into a spiral. He couldn’t remember ever having been this upset, even during the hazing incident in college. At least he’d had the option to leave then.

Link was humiliated, angry, scared… he clapped his hands over his mouth so James wouldn’t hear him crying, but the room was so small, there was no avoiding it.

“You okay over there, Neal?”

His anger flared up again at that. _McLaughlin_ , that was another name for Link to give to the police. “Leave me _alone_! I hate you.” He did, too. James might not be as bad as the others, but he was still a hostage-holding asshole.

Link heard springs squeak as James got up and took a few steps across the room, then back towards the mattress. “Got you some tissues,” he said. Link lifted a corner of the blanket and saw a bunch of crumpled napkins. Despite his resentment, he grabbed them and blew his nose.

“I asked Willen about your dog,” James said. “He thinks it just ran off.”

How _dare_ he. “ _She_ ,” Link snapped. “Her name is Jade. She’s a dachshund. Well, kind of. I love her.”

There was a sigh from the couch. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Link didn’t care how sorry James was. It didn’t change anything. He wiped the tears off his face, but they kept coming.

There was a long moment of silence, then James said slowly, “Link. What happened while I was gone?”

As if he didn’t know. Link sat up, furious. He glared at James. “He took _pictures_!”

James looked completely lost. “Pictures?”

“Documentation. Pictures with the newspaper, to show I was alive. Lots of pictures of my face.” Link touched his cheekbone, ran a finger along each lower eyelid. “He had me strip down to my underwear so he could ‘document’ all my scrapes and bruises. And it’s gonna be the same every day.”

James looked genuinely shocked and disturbed. Maybe he really hadn’t known? “I didn’t… I had no idea he was going to do that.”

As it turned out, Link didn’t really care if he’d known or not. He didn’t care how James felt. All he cared about was if Jade was safe, and getting home. “ _Fuck_ you, James.” He pulled the blankets back over himself.

James left him alone after that.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

At some point, Link fell asleep. He awoke to a knock at the door and pulled the blankets off his head.

The room looked exactly the same as it had before. With no windows and the only illumination provided by two floor lamps, there was no way to tell how much time had passed. Link was completely disoriented. It was going to drive him crazy, and fast.

He sat up and carefully rubbed his eyes. His face was still incredibly tender. “What time is it?” Link asked. His need to know what time it was trumped his anger at James, at least for the moment.

“1:30. Lie back down for a minute.” James went to the door. _1:30?!_ Link didn’t feel like he’d slept that long, but apparently he had. He heard James and Willen speaking at the door, but their voices were low and he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

James came back with a Subway bag and dropped it on the table. “Lunch.” Ah, so there was a Subway nearby, too. Link was going to be able to pinpoint his location with chain restaurants soon.

Link retrieved his pants and went to the bathroom. James had put the bottle of ibuprofen in there at some point. Evidently he trusted that Link wouldn’t try to kill himself with an overdose. Not that he’d want to. That would be a horrible way to go. Link admired his impressive black eyes in the mirror and took 800mg of ibuprofen, then went out.

James was sitting at the tables, two subs in from of him, waiting for Link. “Do you want turkey or ham?” he asked.

“Ham, I guess,” Link answered. He remembered an ex’s mother asking him what he wanted for Christmas dinner. _Ham_ , Link said confidently. _I’m a ham man._ James slid a sub over. Link unwrapped it and carefully removed the tomatoes. James bit into his sandwich and watched. “I don’t like ‘em, okay?”

James raised a dark eyebrow and put down his sub. “I didn’t say anything.” He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it over. “I’m gonna go buy you some stuff. Let me know if I missed anything.”

Link took a bite of his sub to hide his surprised expression. The list was pretty comprehensive. Most of it was a full range of toiletries and bathroom things--basically everything that would be supplied by a nice hotel. There were a lot of other things Link could request, and James would probably get them because he seemed like a pushover, but there was really only one thing Link _needed_. “Can I get an alarm clock or a watch or something? Not knowing the time is really disorienting.” 

“Sure.” James took the list back and added to the bottom of it. _Yep, pushover_ , Link thought. Something occurred to him, and he set down his sandwich. 

“Am I gonna be alone, or is that other guy going to be in here?”

James looked uncomfortable and guilty. “His name’s Willen, and yeah, he’s gonna be here.” 

Oh, Link knew his name. He slumped in his patio chair. The panic was beginning to come back. “Are… are you sure I can’t just wait by myself? I promise I’m not gonna do anything.”

“Not yet. Maybe later, if you keep behavin’ yourself. Just… read the paper and try to ignore him.” James picked up his sandwich and took a bite. Link followed suit. He wasn’t hungry, but he knew he had to eat. They ate in silence. 

Link thought about boundaries as he ate. He kept trying to put walls up, and they kept crumbling every time James was nice to him. He resolved, not for the first time, to be stronger. 

James finished his sub first. He got up and put the paper in front of Link, who steadfastly didn’t look up. James sighed and went to the door. He left, and Willen came in.


	7. Chapter 7

Link very carefully ignored Willen. He focused his attention on finishing his sandwich. When that was done, he picked up the paper. It rustled in his shaking hands. Link quickly glanced over at Willen to see if he noticed, but he was engrossed in a book of some kind of puzzles. It seemed he was as intent on ignoring Link as Link was on ignoring him.

Well, that suited Link just fine. James was probably right that reading the paper was his best bet, so Link smoothed it out and began reading. The current political climate made him anxious to begin with, and in his current state it would be even worse, so he skipped those stories. There were a lot of other things to read, but, Link noticed, nothing about a missing man being held for ransom. Probably no one had noticed that he was gone yet.

James had left his pen, so Link started working on the puzzles. The letter jumble and Sudoku were easy, but the crossword was the Saturday crossword from the New York Times, and it was incredibly difficult. Link gave up after staring at it for what had to be half an hour and getting only two clues.

Link scribbled all over the puzzle in disgust. He glanced over at Willen, who was still working on his puzzles. Link had no idea how much time had passed. An hour? An hour and a half? James hadn’t said when he’d be back.

He had to occupy himself _somehow_. Link rubbed the corner of the paper between his fingers. The feathery deckled edges felt delicate under his fingers. He idly folded the paper and let his thoughts drift.

The act of folding the paper triggered a memory. Some years back, Link had read an article about the engineering possibilities of origami. It fascinated him, and he spent several weeks trying to teach himself origami. He ended up losing interest before he got very proficient, but he still remembered some of the simpler stuff.

Link folded over a corner of the paper and scored it with his nail. A few more folds and scores later, and he was able to carefully tear out a square of newsprint. Most of it was the puzzle he’d scribbled on, which made him smile a little.

It took a few false starts, but eventually Link had a little crane. It was small enough to fit on the palm of his hand. He held it up and admired it. There was almost nothing he could control in his current environment, but maybe he could make something beautiful.

Willen was still ignoring him. Link folded and scored, folded and scored, until he had ten squares of paper, mostly the same size. He set about making more cranes. There was a legend about paper cranes, Link remembered. If you made a thousand of them, you’d be granted a wish.

He had four. 

Link picked up the fifth piece of paper.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

James came back a while later. Link hoped there was a clock in one of his shopping bags, because he couldn’t keep time in cranes (he currently had twelve).

Willen got up to leave. James held up a hand, plastic bags sliding down his forearm and pushing up his hoodie sleeve. He had an electric drill in the other hand. “Wait. I bought an armchair at the thrift store. I can’t keep sitting on that fucking couch. It’s killing my back. I’m gonna need you to help me bring it in.”

Link wondered if he could sneak out somehow while they had the door open. Apparently, Willen had the same thought. He pointed at Link. “What are you gonna do with him?”

James turned to him. Link looked back, hoping his expression was neutral. All sorts of possibilities were whirling through his mind. “I don’t have any reason not to trust you,” James said. “But I’m gonna lock you in the bathroom.” He pulled a padlock and hasp out of one of the bags and set about screwing it into the frame.

 _Oh_. All of Link’s half-formed plans collapsed. Despite his previous decision to write James off as a hostage-keeping piece of shit, he still felt a little betrayed. He folded his arms and leaned back in his patio chair.

James finished and gestured grandly through the door. “All yours.” Link rolled his eyes involuntarily and went in. Fuck this guy. Walls up. 

He sat on the closed toilet lid with his elbows on his thighs and his chin in his hands. There was a lot of banging and cursing outside the door. Link wondered how on earth they were going to fit an armchair in such a small room. Maybe take the air mattress out?

He also wondered how his life had reached this point. Not being kidnapped, specifically, there was nothing he really could have done to prevent that (although he certainly wished he’d been more alert at the park), but not having anyone who would notice him missing for three days. Link really only had one close friend, Alex, but they weren’t in constant contact and didn’t have any plans over the weekend, and none of his extended family lived nearby.

Link had more or less given up looking for a partner, but suddenly it seemed like having someone who would miss him would be a really, really good idea. For one thing, if he dropped dead at home, Jade wouldn’t have to eat him to survive. And he was kind of lonely… When this was all over, things were going to change.

He was startled out of his thoughts by James unlocking the door. Everything in the room had been moved around. The air mattress was propped up on one wall and held in place by the card table, and in its former place was a green chair that, while nearly as ugly as the couch, was stain free and looked pretty comfortable.

Link sat on the couch, correctly assuming that it had been demoted from James’s spot to his, and eyed the shopping bags on the floor. A pile of books had materialized next to them while he was locked in the bathroom. James noticed his gaze and handed him the bags. “Got you some stuff. And some books to read.”

A clock! A cheap, digital alarm clock, the most basic money could buy. Link put it off to the side to the side to set up later, because there were a lot of toiletries and he really, really wanted to clean himself up.

“What, no thank you?” James asked.

Link shook his head. _Maybe if you didn’t lock me in the bathroom._

“What, are you giving me the silent treatment?”

Obviously. Link nodded.

“That’s real fuckin’ mature,” James snapped. Link rolled his eyes, purposefully this time, and went back to separating the toiletries he was about to use from the stuff he’d deal with later. James snatched the top book off the stack and threw himself in the armchair. Link was a little surprised at how upset he was. He’d already decided that James wasn’t acting, that he really did feel sorry for Link, but maybe his feelings were deeper than Link thought.

Link put his clock and a few other things in the corner with his shoes and glasses. His cranes were scattered all over the floor, and a lot of them were crushed or torn. Those he put in one of the plastic bags with all the other trash, and put the five that survived in the other bag. Then he bundled all his toiletries (which, he was interested to see, included a razor) along with his dress shirt into the towel and went to figure out how to bathe in the floor sink.

First things first, though. Link squirted a generous dollop of toothpaste onto his generic toothbrush. It had nearly been thirty six hours since he’d brushed his teeth.

That done, he set his supplies out by the floor sink. A bar of soap, a little bottle of shampoo, a washcloth. Link was annoyed to discover that the water never really got hot, but at least it wasn’t cold.

He did his best to follow his home routine. Wet hair, turn off water, shampoo, rinse, get body wet, turn off water, lather up, rinse. It required a lot more stopping and starting than it did at home, and got a lot of water on the linoleum floor, but Link felt much better when he was done. He hadn’t realized how much cleaning up would improve his morale.

Link did his best, but the bloodstains wouldn’t come out of his dress shirt. It was dark enough that they weren’t really visible, but it was more about the principle of the thing. He wanted to wash away everything related to his kidnapping.

He hung his shirt and towel up above the floor sink and thought for a moment. James hadn’t been generous enough to get him any clothes. Link didn’t really want to hang his underwear up where James would see them, but his desire to have clean underwear overruled that. At least they were nice underwear, and hey, maybe they’d be dry before James went in next.

Link exited the bathroom, and James immediately took his place.

_God damn it._


	8. Chapter 8

The next day was the same. Fast food, documentation pictures, cranes, reading, boredom. Link set his clock by sneaking a look at James’s smart watch, which helped immensely. He set an alarm for 7:30. Just because he was locked in a basement was no reason to let his sleep schedule go to hell.

Link had been hoping that the documentation pictures would be easier once he knew what to expect, but they weren’t. He was shaky and tight-chested for hours afterwards, despite his best efforts to breathe deeply and calm down. The third day, he decided to try something new.

He folded up and card table and piled it on the couch with the patio chairs and set about doing a series of sun salutations. It had been a few years since Link had done yoga regularly, but the muscle memory was still there. After a few cycles, he felt noticeably calmer.

James watched, of course, which was annoying, but Link would rather be watched doing yoga (in khakis--also annoying) than keep having a panic attack.

And he watched James, too. Link was curious to know what made him tick. He and Willen obviously weren’t friends, and Link wondered how they’d ended up working together (he also wondered where the third kidnapper, Portelli, was). Willen seemed like someone who’d been involved with all kinds of illegal activity for a very long time, while James seemed to be a lot more uncomfortable about the whole thing. And he hadn’t known who Link was at first, which just raised more questions.

James was always nice to Link, even when Link was giving him the silent treatment (he didn’t give Willen the silent treatment, though. He didn’t dare). He was always gentle, always careful in his movements, always soft spoken. It seemed bizarre that someone like that, who was so obviously not fully invested, had become a kidnapper.

He had to admit that James was pretty easy on the eyes, too. Link could try and put up all the walls he wanted, but he still saw James pretty much all day, every day. If James hadn’t been one of his captors, Link wouldn’t have minded a chance to run his fingers through those dark blond curls, or find out exactly what it felt like to sit in James’s lap.

Yes, it was a good thing Link had put up those walls, because otherwise he might have found James very, very attractive.

The stack of books James brought over weren’t that helpful in figuring out what sort of person he was. The nonfiction was science and history and the fiction was thrillers.

Link had never been one for thrillers or spy novels, but he had to read something, and he noticed something interesting in the synopsis of one of them. _Slow Horses_ , by Mick Herron.

_a young man is abducted and his kidnappers threaten to broadcast his beheading live on the Internet_

He settled back onto the couch, using his folded up blanket as a pillow, and began to read. A while later, he looked up and remarked, “At least you’re not gonna behead me live on the internet.”

“Uh.” There was a pause as James surfaced out of his own book. “What?”

“The kid in this book. He got kidnapped and now they’re threatening to behead him on cam. So it could be worse, I guess.” Link shrugged. He’d already figured out a lot of ways his situation could have been worse, but that hadn’t been one of them.

James dropped his own book on the floor and yanked Link’s book away. “What the fuck.”

“Hey!” Link complained. “You lost my place!”

“What the _fuck_ ,” James muttered to himself as he read the inside of the cover. “I brought you a book about a kidnapping?”

Link just looked at him. What a stupid question. If he hadn’t already known that James was not the mastermind of the whole kidnapping scheme, that would have confirmed it. “Well, I certainly didn’t bring it with me.”

“Shut up.” The words were harsh but the tone wasn’t. It was more like an annoyed older brother, maybe, than a captor to a prisoner. Link watched James’s face, fascinated at the little drama playing out there was he decided whether to give the book back or not. His eyebrows furrowed and his lips twitched while he thought. Finally, he handed the book back to Link.

“You really didn’t know what it was about?” Link asked as he tried to find his place.

“I mean, I guess I did… It’s just been a while since I looked at it. I buy ‘em faster than than I read ‘em.” James sounded embarrassed, and he looked a little pink, too. So he was a little careless? Interesting.

“Mm. Thought it might have been a sick joke.” Link wasn’t sure if he was teasing James, really. He didn’t use a teasing tone of voice. James was growing on him, just a little, but Link didn’t really want him to know that. He returned to his book, eager to see if a bunch of fuckup spies could actually solve their fictional kidnapping, and returned to his silent treatment as well.

The silent treatment only lasted as long as it took James to say, ““You want an update about your dad? And your dog?”

Link’s temper flared up, white hot. “What do you fucking think, James? Huh? You think I’ve decided that ‘well, this is my life now’, and forgot about all that?”

“So that’s a yes?” James had a stupid little smile on his face.

This fucking _asshole_. Link couldn’t remember ever being so angry in his life. How long had James known something? How long had he been holding out? Link covered his face and screamed into his palms. It was either that or leap across the room and throttle James. Link managed to pull himself together enough to growl, “Yes, god damn it!”

James set his closed book in his lap and leaned back in his green chair, all casual-like. It made Link sick. “Okay. So I read this online yesterday when I was Googling you.”

 _Asshole_ , Link thought again. “You _would_.” Actually, he didn’t know what James would do or not do, because he barely knew the man, but he wasn’t feeling charitable.

“Hey, I gotta know what kind of guy my roommate is, right?” Link wondered what he’d find if he Googled _James McLaughlin_. Probably nothing, because his name wasn’t James. “And those motherfuckers don’t tell me anything, so I gotta find things out myself. Anyway, about a day and a half after Willen and Portelli picked you up, somebody found your dog--”

“Jade! Is she okay?” Link was briefly aware the James said no one told him anything, which confirmed one of his suspicions (although it gave no clue as to _why_ they didn’t tell him anything), but it was swiftly booted out of the way by news of Jade.

“Yeah, man, she’s good.” Relief washed over Link. He’d worried more about Jade than he’d worried about himself. She was so little and helpless. He smiled, really smiled, for the first time since he’d walked around the corner at the park and seen Willen and Portelli waiting for him. “Somebody found her and posted her on some lost pets Facebook group, and the commenters said to take her to be scanned for a microchip. Anyway, they took her to a shelter and scanned her, and when they couldn’t get in touch with you they tried the second contact--your friend, I guess?”

“Yeah, Alex.” The animal shelter suggested that Link add a secondary contact to Jade’s microchip when he adopted her. His friend Alex was the obvious choice--he was Link’s best buddy, he lived nearby, and he loved dogs. Link vowed to send a thank you card and generous donation to the shelter when he was freed.

“So he came and got her, and when _he_ couldn’t get in touch with you, he reported you missing. And that’s when my higher ups contacted your dad, and I guess things are in negotiations.” James shrugged.

“Oh.” That didn’t really give Link any information. “How are they going?”

James shrugged again. “Dunno. It’s not in the news yet.”

Where was he getting this information, if not the news? Link looked at him in askance. “Then how did you find out?”

“You know what the dark web is?”

“Of course I know what the dark web is!” Link was a little offended. “It’s for illegal stuff.” _Like organizing kidnappings, probably._

James made a sort of _you got me there_ expression. “There’s all kinds of rumors and secrets there, if you know where to look.” Link suddenly had an idea of what James’s middle step might have been between ‘stealing a Walkman from K-mart’ to ‘being part of a kidnapping ring’.

“Is that all? I don’t wanna get my hopes up too soon, y’know?” _Or at all_.

“That’s all for now, but I’ll let you know if anything changes.” James paused, and looked uncomfortable. “Look, I just want you to know that I’m sorry this is happening to you, that none of this was my idea but I didn’t get any say in it, that I’m not having that great of a time being cooped up in here either, and that I hope you get to go home soon and that this hasn’t fucked you up too much.”

Well, it was too late for that. All Link was to say to that was, “Okay.” He opened his book to signify that the conversation was over. Walls and boundaries.

“That’s it?” James actually had the fucking audacity to sound injured.

How _dare_ he make himself the victim in this? “Yes, James, that’s it! What do you want me to say? That I forgive you? That it’s cool between us just because you feel guilty? Because it isn’t! You ruined my life, okay? Even if I get out of here tomorrow, it’s going to follow me every day for the rest of my life. I’m not gonna be Link anymore, I’m just gonna be the guy who got kidnapped and held for ransom. The media’s gonna be beating down my door. And don’t think I haven’t noticed that you want to be my friend, playing the good cop and bringing me all those little presents. If you really wanted to be my friend, you’d let me go.” Any hint of goodwill Link had had evaporated. He was furious, hurt, and betrayed. He could feel tears streaming down his face.

“I can’t,” James said. He sounded broken.

“I _know_ you can’t, so just leave me the fuck alone!” Link burst into tears and threw himself facedown onto the couch, not caring that the upholstery was touching his bare skin. He pulled the blanket over his head and cried and cried until he couldn’t any more.

He hated being here. He hated James. 

So why couldn’t Link stop thinking about him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used to take a yoga class where one of the other students was a portly middle aged man who wore a polo shirt, khakis, and a belt. Somehow, his shirt never came untucked, EVER. It was as impressive as it was weird.


	9. Chapter 9

Link made it a practice to make as many cranes as possible in the morning and early afternoon. The more he made, the faster he got. The main thing slowing him down was making the squares, but he’d figured out a way of using the edge of a book as a straight edge to tear the newspaper against, allowing him to quickly make multiple squares at once. His goal was fifty a day, but once he got his technique down, he usually passed that.

As he folded, he let his thoughts wander. He thought about Jade, wondering if she missed him and if she was happy with Alex (probably, they adored each other). He thought about his dad, and hoped that he wouldn’t let Link down again, like he had so many times in the past. He thought about his job, wondered who was working on his project, and if it would be there for him when he got home.

He thought about James.

Link supposed he didn’t really have anything against James, personally. He seemed like he was nice enough, thoughtful and easygoing, but he was a fucking kidnapper! Link couldn’t reconcile those two things. He’d accused James of playing the good cop, but the truth was that Link was certain he wasn’t acting. He didn’t know what to make of it.

There was one thing he knew for sure, though: he was attracted to James. Link had realized it the night before, in the middle of his inner _I hate him I hate him_ monologue. Even in the midst of his pain and anger, the face he pictured wasn’t cruel or disinterested, like Portelli and Willen were. James’s eyes were always soft and concerned, he had always been gentle on the few occasions he’d touched Link, and he’d kept his promise to never hurt Link.

And he was hot. The beard, the blond curls, the green eyes… those were all great, but it was his height, his long legs and broad shoulders, that really captivated Link.

Maybe, Link thought as he folded his thirty sixth crane of the day, he shouldn’t focus his fear and hatred of this situation on James just because he was the closest target. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

James returned from his morning meeting as Link finished his forty first crane.

“Things are gonna be changing around here!” Link glanced at him, a little worried, but James’s tone of voice suggested it would be a positive change. “You’re gonna be getting some privacy, Link. I’ve got a desk set up right outside so I can get some work done, but if you need me you can just knock on the door.” James said.

Link rolled his eyes. What would he possibly need James for? He already had everything a man could ever want: a busted couch, a rubber hose to bathe with, a stack of newspapers and fast food bags to fold into cranes, and a random selection of books. He picked up his forty second square of paper. It was from that morning’s McDonalds bag.

James frowned. “What do you need all those cranes for, anyway?” 

Link was tired, so tired. He was tired of being afraid and he was tired of trying to keep up his walls and boundaries when it was so obviously not working, so he actually made eye contact for a moment. “If you make a thousand, you get a wish.”

“Oh.” It was obvious James didn’t know what to say, so he just took the coffee cups and McMuffin wrappers and left. Link was alone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Privacy! Such luxury. Link finished his cranes first, working until he had sixty. He swept them into a shopping bag before folding up the card table and stacking it on the couch with the green resin chairs. 

Link took off his pants and began with a couple rounds of sun salutations, like he’d been doing, but now, without the restrictions of khakis or someone watching, he could do a full yoga routine. The transitions and poses slowly came back to him, and he felt calmer than he had since before he was kidnapped.

He cleaned himself as best he could with the stupid hose and floor sink, and washed his t-shirt and underwear. Dried off and dressed in his khakis and still-stained dress shirt, Link went to lie down on the couch.

Maybe he’d take a nap. Link lost himself in thought and was starting to drift off when he realized he was very, very hard. He hadn’t jerked off in over a week, so that wasn’t surprising. 

He slowly rubbed himself through his khakis. It was a markedly different sensation without underwear. Link glanced at the door. The electronic lock beeped whenever someone entered the code, so he’d have a little warning before Rhett came in.

Link knew that if he were smart, he’d go into the bathroom to masturbate, but somehow his body fit into the lumpy couch exactly right. He was so comfortable, so relaxed, that he didn’t want to move. Instead, he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled his pants down a little.

There wasn’t any particular fantasy in his mind at first, just the sensation of one hand on his cock and the other on his balls, but the further Link got into it, the more he realized he was imagining a specific scenario.

He was under someone, someone bigger than him, who ground his whole body against Link and kissed and licked at his neck. The imaginary someone gripped Link’s hair in one hand and touched and stroked him all over with the other.

Link sighed, tossed his head to the side, and moved his hand faster.

His fantasy became more detailed the longer it went on. His imaginary lover had a beard, and curly hair, and green eyes… 

Link was so close, almost there, when the door opened. His eyes flew open. He hadn’t heard the beep!

There, in the doorway, eyes wide with shock, stood James. The object of Link’s desire. Link shrieked and tried to pull his pants up.

“Oh, fuck! Sorry, sorry!” James practically flew out the door. Link definitely heard the beep as it was locked again.

He lay frozen, both hands still gripping the waist of his pants. His cock still stood at attention. _Fuck it_ , Link thought, and took hold of himself again. He was already screwed. Might as well take any pleasure he could get out of the situation. Link slipped back into his fantasy of a big hand on his waist and green eyes above him.

It was a really, really good orgasm.


	10. Chapter 10

Link dearly, dearly hoped James would act like nothing had happened, but his hopes were dashed a while later when the other man knocked on the door.

 _Guess he learned how to knock._ Link rolled his eyes. “Yeah?” 

James entered, looking almost as flustered as Link felt. “Just gotta pee.”

“Mmkay.” Link kept his eyes glued to his book. He heard James flush the toilet and wash his hands. _Please don’t make this weird_.

“So, sorry about earlier. I should--”

 _Oh no._ “James.”

“--have knocked but I didn’t even think of it. Hell--”

 _Please shut up_. “ _James_.”

“--I probably would do the same if I hadn’t had any privacy in over a week--”

“ _James_!” Link could tell that he was blushing furiously. He didn’t dare look up.

James finally stopped talking. “What?”

“Please shut up.” Link might actually burst into flames if he didn’t, that’s how badly his cheeks were burning. “Don’t... don’t make it worse than it already is.” 

“I’ll knock next time, promise,” James said. Link bet he would, too. “See you in a few hours.”

“Bye,” Link said quietly as James exited. He didn’t look up from the page he hadn’t actually been reading until the lock beeped.

Link sighed at the closed door and shook his head. Things had been a lot simpler before he realized he didn’t actually hate James. He had no clue how to handle this going forward.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

There was a knock on the door a couple hours later. Link smirked a little. James had absolutely learned his lesson. “Yeah.”

James came in with a few new books and a grocery bag full of snacks--granola bars, fruit cups, that kind of thing. Link shook his head a little when James turned his back. It always baffled him, the things he was and wasn’t allowed. James took his razor away when he was done shaving, but let him have unrestricted access to can lids. Anyone who’d ever cut the crap out of themselves with one could vouch that they’d make excellent weapons.

“Hey.” Link glanced up at James, who touched his cheek on the spot where Link had his injury. “Can I look at that cut? It’s probably time to take the bandages off.”

“Oh.” Link had been wondering about that. He felt his cut, where the corners of the bandages had started curling up. “Yeah, they’re starting to peel off.”

James parked on the resin patio chairs in front of the couch, like he had the night he’d fixed Link’s cut, and went to wash his hands. He sat and carefully turned Link’s face towards the light. “Shouldn’t hurt much this time.” He was right. It hurt less than most bandaids did. James scooted the chair back. “Alright, go take a look, see what you think.”

Link slid out around him and went to check out his face in the crooked little bathroom mirror. The cut was a bright purple-red where it wasn’t still scabbed over. It looked awful, and it was still a little tender as he pressed his finger into it. Link scowled.

“It’ll fade with time,” James said from the doorway. Link let out an undignified little squeak, startled.

“Oh! I didn’t know you were there.” He poked his cheek again and made a face at himself in the mirror. “It could be worse, I guess.” If James hadn’t fixed it, it surely would have been.

“Yeah.” James retreated back to his green chair. He’d spilled Coke on it a couple days ago, and now it had a huge stain across one arm, which amused Link for some reason.

“Thank you,” Link said. He meant it. James could have been worse, too.

James looked shocked. “You’re welcome,” he said. “And I have something to tell you.”

Link flopped onto the hideous sofa, which made an alarming groan. “Oh?” The last time James volunteered information, it was about Jade and his ransom. He wondered what it would be this time.

“Yeah. My name isn’t James.” He said it with the air of someone revealing a huge secret.

That was not actually news to Link. “No shit.”

“It’s Rhett. James is my middle name.”

“Rhett.” Link let it sit on his tongue, testing how it felt. An uncommon name. He looked at the man across from him, mentally reassigning him. _Rhett_.

Link thought for a few moments. “The other guys, are those their real names?”

Rhett looked a little surprised. “Uh. I honestly have no idea.”

Link furrowed his brow. What kind of organization _was_ this? “Willen calls you McLaughlin. Is _that_ real?”

“Yes.” _Rhett James McLaughlin_.

“So they know your real name, but you don’t know theirs?” This was very weird.

“I… I’m not exactly in charge here,” Rhett said, embarrassed. “Kind of the opposite, really. I think that’s why they put me in charge of you.”

Link was utterly lost. Apparently that was clear on his face, because James just kept talking.

“I guess you could say I’m expendable?” Rhett gestured vaguely. “I don’t really know anything, so when this is all over, if it goes bad and I go to prison, it’s not a big problem for the higher ups. And I don’t have anything more important to be doing. There’s a lot of people that can do computer stuff, and a lot that can do it better than me.”

Link mentally filed away _computer stuff_. Another piece in the puzzle of who this man was. “So if someone else can do your job better, you don’t know anything, and they don’t care about you, why are you here?”

Rhett grimaced and looked away. “Well.... it’s not that they don’t care about me. Um, I defrauded some kind of shell corporation a couple years ago. Twelve million dollars. I’m not even sure who actually owned it, but they caught me, and one day Demetrius showed up at my door and informed me that I worked for him now. That’s what they care about, the twelve million dollars. I’ve been working it off, and once your dad pays, I’ll be done.”

 _Demetrius_. That was probably the guy with the accent. Another name for Link’s mental list.

“Ja--Rhett,” Link corrected himself. “Do you really believe that?”

Rhett looked deeply, deeply unhappy. “No.”

A lot of Link’s questions were suddenly cleared up. Why a person who seemed so uncomfortable with the whole thing was involved in keeping someone hostage, why he seemed so sympathetic to Link, why he didn’t dehumanize Link like the others.

“Huh,” Link said. “I guess you’re a prisoner almost as much as I am.”

Rhett looked away at that. His expression became even unhappier, and he sort of crumpled in on himself. Link wasn’t surprised to find himself feeling sorry for Rhett, but he was surprised at _how_ sorry he was.

They didn’t speak again for the rest of the evening.


	11. Chapter 11

Link awoke with a start. He’d been dreaming about being trapped in the trunk again. It was a dream he had nightly. This time, he could see a glowing trunk release lever in the shape of a crane, but it fluttered around and he couldn’t catch it.

He glanced at the clock. 2:37am. Link dropped his head back onto the couch with a little groan. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep again for at least an hour, probably longer.

Rhett, as always, slept soundly on his air mattress. Link didn’t begrudge him his rest. In fact, he was glad for the privacy during his nightly panics.

Link rolled over onto his and tucked the mint green fleece tightly around his shoulders. He looked down at the man curled up on the floor below him. His curls haloed out around his head, illuminated by the red LEDs of Link’s clock.

Rhett, not James. Link’s feelings about him had changed dramatically in the last day and a half, and the revelation of his true name had changed it even more. It seemed like Rhett trusted him--he told Link about his past and he did research on his own and told Link what he’d found. He certainly wasn’t keeping Link at arm’s length.

But did Link trust Rhett? He thought about it for a while and decided that he couldn’t, even though he wanted to. Rhett was under the sway of the others ( _Willen, Portelli, Demetrius_ ). He wasn’t a free agent. Link trusted that on his own, Rhett would treat him as well as possible, but he couldn’t be sure that Rhett wouldn’t somehow be _compelled_ to hurt him.

Even still, he was glad Rhett was there with him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Things got a little better after that.

Willen still came and took his documentation pictures, which were as humiliating as ever. Link was surprised he’d never had a nightmare about it. It was probably just a matter of time. The other possibility was that the trunk trauma overruled it.

The worst were the days that Link’s underwear was hanging up in the bathroom drying, and he had to go put on damp boxer briefs for the pictures. The extra layer of humiliation that wearing wet underwear added always catapulted him to a new level of upset.

There were two saving graces, though: Willen left immediately after taking the pictures, leaving Link alone to do his yoga (or sometimes just collapse on the couch, emotionally spent), and Rhett would give him time to calm down before returning to hang out.

Link made lots and lots of squares and cranes. He wanted to reach his goal of a thousand as quickly as possible. His wish was to get home safely.

Most of the cranes were newspaper, but some were made of fast food bags or the ads that came in the Wednesday paper. Link liked having a variety of colors and textures in his cranes.

“Is this your address?” Link asked Rhett a couple days after they’d reached their detente. He held up a letter from a cable company addressed to OUR FRIEND AT that Rhett had been using as a bookmark and discarded next to his chair when he finished his book. Rhett snatched it out of his hand and went to tear it in half.

“No, don’t!” Link protested. “I just want the envelope.”

Rhett paused before tearing the envelope. “Why?”

“I like the color.” It was pale blue with SPECIAL OFFER! In big red letters next to the cellophane window.

“‘Kay.” Rhett carefully opened the envelope and took out the letter. He shoved it in his pocket. “Did you actually look at the address?”

“I just saw Oakland,” Link said. There had been a street address and an apartment number, but he hadn’t memorized them.

Rhett gave him a calculating look and handed over the envelope. Link set to work trimming it into a square and turning it into a crane. Once again, he was amused at what Rhett chose to keep from him. Link already knew his full name. What difference did it make if Link knew his address, too?

He smiled to himself as he dropped the crane into the cardboard Jimmy John’s box he kept his belongings in.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They didn’t usually talk in the evenings, but one night, Rhett leaned back in his chair and asked, “So, if you could have me bring anything here for you, what would it be? And I’m talking realistically.”

“Is this a bribe or something?” Link asked. He thought Rhett was probably actually trying to be nice, but he also didn’t want to act like he thought Rhett was on his side.

“No,” Rhett answered. “You don’t have anything that I want.”

Link looked over at his cardboard box full of plastic bags of paper cranes and dollar store supplies. Fair enough. “Uh… okay.” What did Link want? He wanted to go home, and he wanted to see Jade. Neither of those were a possibility, so he went with a lower tier of wishes. “Some clean clothes, the sequels to _Slow Horses_ , a needle and thread, and a really good apple. I’m so tired of fast food.”

Rhett looked confused. “A needle and thread?”

““For my cranes. I want to string them up so I can keep track of how many I have.” Link currently had two tied off bags of two hundred cranes each and was almost done with a third, but it was an imperfect system. “And I want to fix my sweater.”

“Will you show me how to make one?” Rhett asked. Link assumed he meant a crane and not a sweater, because Link was not the right person to ask about making a sweater.

“Uh, sure.” Link rifled through his squares and selected two from their Arby’s lunch. As an absolute beginner, Rhett probably needed something a little sturdier than thin newsprint.

Rhett sat at the table. Link picked up the other patio chair and waited for Rhett to scoot over so they could sit on the same side of the table. This close, Link could smell whatever citrusy product Rhett used that wore off on his blankets.

“Okay, so first you have to decide which side you want on the outside,” Link said. His piece was mostly brown, with a little red. Rhett looked at his own square, which had much more red writing on it.

“This side,” he said, showing Link the red side.

“Start with that side down, and then fold it like this.” Link demonstrated. Rhett watched closely and followed along as Link went through each step of the crane. 

Link had long fingers, but Rhett’s were longer, and thicker, with blunt nails. They weren’t clumsy, though. Link watched as Rhett deftly folded and scored his square of brown paper, admiring his hands.

Rhett’s crane came out a little lopsided, but he looked absurdly pleased anyway. Link wondered if that was what he looked like normally, when he wasn’t caught up in criminal activity he didn’t agree with. It made him a little sad, but all he said out loud was, “Well done.”

“Here.” Rhett tried to hand him the crane, but Link refused to take it.

“Oh no, you keep it.” Link stood up and carried the green chair back to the other side of the table. “Start saving up for your own wish.” He figured Rhett probably needed a wish.

Rhett opened his mouth to say something, and then shut it. He took his wallet out and secreted the crane in an inner pocket. Link settled back on the couch and watched him out of the corner of his eye. Rhett sat at the card table, deep in thought, a small frown on his face.

Link had been watching Rhett a _lot_ lately. He still spent most of time anxious, afraid, and unhappy, but it was always easiest when Rhett was around, even if he was just at his desk outside doing what Link assumed to be illegal dark web stuff (Rhett wouldn’t actually tell him what he was doing, but Link could very faintly hear a keyboard clicking if he pressed his ear up to the door). 

He promised himself that, when the time came to give his statement to the police, he could do everything he could to help Rhett.


	12. Chapter 12

Link dumped the bagful of cranes out onto the table and recounted to make sure there were two hundred. There were. He tied up the bag and dropped it into his cardboard box. That was six hundred. He was more than halfway through.

He was having a good day, relatively speaking. The photographs were still an emotional ordeal, but he and Willen had gone through their routine enough times that it didn’t take very long and Link could do it mostly on autopilot. Today, it felt like it had taken almost no time at all, and lunch had been a chicken sandwich instead of a burger.

Link grabbed his book and got comfortable on the couch. He loved to read, always had, but he’d read so many books since he got to the basement room that he couldn’t even remember them all. There was nothing he wanted more than to watch some reality tv and eat a bag of baby carrots. At least Rhett had pretty good taste in books.

The door beeped. Link looked up and smiled. “Got your stuff!” Rhett announced. “Well, some of it anyway.” Link put down his book and took the Wal-Mart bag. There was a lot of stuff inside. A pair of blue plaid pajama pants, a five pack of boxers (Link hoped that Rhett had guessed at the size and not checked his underwear while it was hanging up to dry), a travel sewing kit, a nail clipper, and three Fuji apples.

While he was thrilled about the new clothes, Link’s first priority was fresh produce. He gave one of the apples a perfunctory shine on his dress shirt and bit in. It was probably the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted, tart and crisp and sweet. Link slurped juice off his wrist and picked up the nail clippers. “You tryin’ to tell me to quit biting my nails?”

“Uh, I actually go it so you could cut the thread, but yeah, that’s gross.” Link scoffed as he took another bite of apple. If a nail clipper could stop him from biting his nails, it would have already happened. “Oh, and one more thing.” Rhett pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and held it out to Link.

Link took it and unfolded it. It was a printed screenshot of a tweet from Alex, dated yesterday. It was a picture of Alex lying in bed, his eyes crinkled with laughter. Jade was on the pillow next to him, licking his face. _Gonna miss this little lady when her dad comes home!_

“Oh, Jade! And Alex.” Link’s apple lay in his lap, forgotten. So many emotions whirled through him. He was both grateful to Alex for taking care of Jade and angry that he had to. He missed them both horribly. He simultaneously felt like it had been just yesterday that he’d been walking Jade, and that it had been a million years ago. Link realized tears were leaking down his cheeks, and blotted them away with his shirt cuff. “It feels like it’s been more than two weeks.”

“Yeah, about that… I finally found out how much your ransom is. They’ve really been keeping it under wraps.” Rhett looked grim.

“This is from that place on the dark web?”

“Yeah. It was fifty million dollars, but now it’s forty million. Your dad’s still trying to negotiate downwards.”

Link’s eyes widened and he burst into laughter. Rhett gave him a curious look. “Sorry, it’s not really funny, it’s just that my dad hasn’t paid a penny towards me since I declared a major in engineering. Who _picked_ me, anyway? Did they even do any research? There have to have been better candidates.” What he thought, but didn’t say out loud was, _I’m not worth that much!_ It was insane, the whole thing was insane. Link wasn’t anyone special. Literally the only notable thing about him was his rich dad.

“That’s what I thought, when you told me your dad didn’t talk to you! And you’re, like, a single, middle-aged man with no kids, which, no offense, because same, is not the exactly the sort of person the news media gets that invested in,” Rhett said. Link was interested to learn that he was single. Rhett continued, “I mean, I was honestly expecting a little kid or a teenage girl when Demetrius told me I’d be babysitting a captive.”

“Did he actually use the word ‘babysit’?” Link asked. It wasn’t a word he really wanted to associate with himself, but it wasn’t inaccurate. Rhett nodded. Link looked at the room around him--the bare concrete floor, the poorly hung drywall, the disgusting couch, the extremely sketchy orange extension cord wiring--and grimaced. He couldn’t imagine how terrified a child would be in his position. “I guess I’d rather it be me than a kid, I guess.”

“I’d rather have you than a kid, too, but I’d rather have a kid than a teenage girl,” Rhett said. Link furrowed his brow in question. “I don’t _think_ the others would hurt a kid, but I wouldn’t trust them around a woman.”

“You’re not saying…” Link didn’t even want to finish that statement. It was too awful to consider.

Rhett gave him a deadly serious look. “The first night you were here, Demetrius told me I could do whatever I wanted to you.” 

“What?” There had to be some connection between Rhett’s two statements, but Link’s brain just wasn’t making it for him.

“I’m gay, too,” Rhett said.

“Oh! Ohhhh.” The lightbulb went on for Link. It illuminated a lot of really ugly things. “So they think you’re making me blow you or whatever and they’re okay with it? That’s fucked up.” He wasn’t surprised, though. What was sexual assault to a group of men who would kidnap someone and hold them for fifty fucking million dollars in ransom?

“This whole thing is fucked up, Link!” Rhett was actually angry. He made an expansive sweeping gesture that somehow managed to encompass the entire experience. Link figured he was talking about his own situation, too.

Link rolled his eyes, but not in a mean way. “Sorry, I guess I mean something like, ‘Wow, I just discovered a new layer of fucked uppedness that I didn’t know about before’,” he replied. “And thanks for not making me do anything.” He’d been thankful that Rhett was his primary captor pretty much since he’d fixed Link’s cut, but now he was even more grateful. Whatever else Rhett might be, he seemed to be doing his best to protect Link.

Rhett gave him a sheepish look. “I made you sleep on the couch.”

“I wasn’t aware I had a choice,” Link said.

“You don’t.”

“Ah.” That was probably fair, Link reasoned. He barely fit on the awful couch, and Rhett was just _so much bigger_ than him.

And honestly, if the worst thing to happen to him while he was locked in this awful little room was that he had to sleep on a busted couch, he was probably doing okay.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Their conversation gave Link a lot to think about. He went over the news in his mid as he changed into clean clothes and finished his apple.

First--Jade was safe and happy. That was excellent news.

Second--The ransom was forty million dollars, down from fifty. That was _absurd_. Link knew for a fact that his dad didn’t actually care about him (he had a whole lifetime’s worth of examples to prove it), so he wasn’t surprised to learn that he was doing his best to negotiate. There had to be some limit to negotiation, though. Link wondered who would break first, and that that would mean for him. 

Third--Rhett was _angry_ at the situation. Was he angry at his associates? Probably. Did that mean he was on _Link’s_ side? Maybe. Did that change anything? Who knew. As much as he hated it, Link was pretty much just along for the ride.

Fourth--Rhett was gay. And single. And hot. And Link liked him (he finally admitted to himself). It was a shame they’d met this way, because Link would have been all over him otherwise. But…

Fifth--This couldn’t end well. There was no happy ending here. This wasn’t a movie where they could escape together and begin a new life. Link needed to get back to work on his walls and boundaries, because he couldn’t get attached.

Sixth--Fuck, just fuck.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Breakfast was late, which was strange. Willen’s lunch delivery came any time between 11:30 and 2:00, but he always brought breakfast by 8:15.

But now it was nearly 10:00. Rhett had gone outside to call Willen, and got no answer, either from him or the boss. He just shrugged, but it made Link nervous. He cleared a space to do some yoga. 

It didn’t bother him as much to have Rhett watch anymore. They’d become… not friends, exactly, but allies, perhaps. Not having to wear khakis anymore helped, too. He began going through his sun salutations.

“If Willen brings McDonalds again today, I’m going to fucking strangle him,” Rhett said. Link nodded in approval. He was also sick of McMuffins.

“Then tell him to get something else,” Link said. He moved from warrior pose into side angle.

Rhett snorted. “I did. That’s why I’m gonna strangle him if I have to eat another McMuffin.” He watched as Link stretched further into the pose. “What’s that one called?”

“Side angle. And _this_ … is revolved side angle.”

“Looks uncomfortable,” Rhett observed.

“It’s not.” Link had his mouth open to continue when there was a knock on the door. Finally. He put both hands on the ground, swung his leg back into downward dog, and stepped forward into standing up. He looked at Rhett. “Bet you a dollar he has McDonalds.” Link was pretty sure that Willen picked up the McDonalds on his way in.

Rhett snorted. “You don’t have a dollar.”

“I will if he has McDonalds,” Link said, ignoring both the fact that Rhett never agreed to the wager and that he had nothing to spend any money on.

Rhett rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” There was a beep as he opened the door. “Willen, if you have a bag of McMuffins I swear to god--what the fuck. Portelli?”

Link, who had started to take the patio chairs off the couch, froze. His chest tightened and his hands started shaking. Portelli. Link had thought-- _hoped_ \--that Portelli had only been involved in the actual kidnapping part, and he’d never have to see him again…

That was obviously not true, as Portelli oozed into the room, holding Willen’s usual accessories: a folded newspaper and a bag of fucking McDonalds. Insult to injury, Link thought. Not only was Portelli here, but he’d lost the bet as well.

“McLaughlin. Neal.” Portelli greeted them cordially, like they were coworkers or neighbors or something. Link went to take a step back as he entered the room and found that he was already against the back wall. He had no recollection of moving away from the couch.

Rhett snuck a glance at Link, his expression worried. “Where’s Willen?” he asked Portelli.

“Out.” Portelli didn’t elaborate.

There was a long moment of silence as Rhett stared at him. Finally, he said, “Don’t fuck him up.”

Then he turned to Link, his expression pleading. “And you cooperate, understand?” Link licked his lips and nodded. He understood what Rhett was really trying to say.

_I’m sorry, I didn’t know this was going to happen, there’s nothing I can do._

And then he was gone.


	13. Chapter 13

Link was alone with Portelli. His heart was pounding and he could barely breathe. He watched as Portelli put the McDonalds bag on the couch. A big gold signet ring glinted on his finger. Link reached up and touched the scar on his cheek. So _that’s_ what cut him.

Portelli straightened up and threw the newspaper at Link, who ducked. The newspaper opened like a backwards umbrella and pages scattered all over the floor. Link knelt to gather them.

“Pick those up,” barked Portelli, even though Link was already doing it. He flinched and tried to hurry, but his hands were shaking so badly he could barely grip the paper. Portelli watched impassively. 

“Christ, just get the front page then,” he said after what seemed like ages to Link. He had to put down all the papers he’d been able to pick up and sort back through them to find it, getting more and more panicky every second. It felt like Portelli was manufacturing a situation where he’d have an excuse to hit Link.

But that was stupid, wasn’t it, because wasn’t he here to take pictures that documented that Link _hadn’t_ been hurt? Link considered it as he folded up the front page with trembling fingers. Was Portelli just trying to scare him? 

Link flicked his eyes over at Portelli as he put the paper in Rhett’s chair and started pulling off his shirt. If Portelli was trying to scare him, it was working. Link was terrified.

Taking the pictures probably didn’t take more than five minutes, but Portelli tormented Link the entire time. It made Link miss and appreciate Willen, which was something he’d never expected. Getting his pictures taken by Willen was dehumanizing, but getting them taken by Portelli was downright traumatizing. He ended the photo session by reaching up like he was going to slap Link, who flinched back. 

“Pussy,” he said, and left, leaving Link alone in the room. The door beeped.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Link breathed as he picked up his clothes and pulled them back on. “Fuck fuck fuck. Okay.” He took a few paces back and forth in the tiny space and tried to slow his breathing. It didn’t work. “It’s okay. He’s gone.”

Link stood up straight and held his hands together in front of his chest to begin a sun salutation, but couldn’t catch his breath or stop shivering. He recognized the signs. It was a panic attack.

“Fuck!” Link shook out his hands and paced back and forth again. The room was too small. Or maybe too big. He needed to be somewhere else, but there was nowhere else to be.

The best he could do was the bathroom. Link closed the door behind himself and sat on the closed toilet and wrapped his arms around himself. His heart was still pounding, his breath was still rapid and shallow. He tried again to take slow, deep breaths. It wasn’t working.

It had been so long since Link had had a panic attack that he couldn’t even remember any of the other techniques he used to use, so he returned to a childhood strategy: finding the smallest possible space and hiding it.

Here, that would have been under the sink, but that was actually _too_ small, so Link folded himself up next to the legs of the sink, with the floor sink on the other side. It wasn’t great, but it was better than nothing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Link didn’t know how long he’d been sitting on the grubby linoleum floor before he heard the door beep. Rhett was back, which was both good and bad. Good, because maybe he could distract Link. Bad, because Link _hated_ crying in front of him.

He knew Rhett didn’t judge him or think less of him, but it still made Link feel weak and ashamed. His dad had always been firmly in the camp of ‘men don’t cry’, and Link had always been an easy crier. Arguments with friends, Hallmark commercials, characters dying in books...any of them could set him off.

There was a knock at the door. “Link? You okay in there?” Rhett asked, concern in his voice. Link opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Another knock. “Link?”

He still couldn’t respond.

“Link, I’m coming in.” Rhett opened the door and looked down at him. His expression of worry and dismay deepened as he saw Link. “Whoa. Okay.” He looked around uncertainly and sat crosslegged in front of Link.

“Can you hear me?” he asked gently.

Link nodded.

“Did Portelli hurt you?”

Physically, no. Mentally, on the other hand… Link shook his head anyway. Rhett already knew what Portelli was like.

“You’re just freaked out because of what he did before?”

Link nodded again. It wasn’t entirely accurate, but close enough.

“Okay.” Rhett looked very relieved that Link was unharmed. “Can I touch your hand?”

 _Please_. Link nodded and Rhett reached out and gently took Link’s trembling hand. His hands were warm and a little sweaty, but nothing had ever felt better to Link. He could tell his heart rate was slowing immediately.

Rhett started talking, something about the Hudson River. Link listened more to the tone and cadence of his voice than the words. He had a wonderful voice, deep and smooth, and Link would have been happy to listen forever, but Rhett stopped. Link realized he’d been asked a questions. He’d never been to the Adirondacks, so he shook his head.

“Ahh, you should! They’re amazing. But the Hudson,” Rhett continued. “There’s a lot of places up there where they do guided tours, kayaks and rafts and all that, but my favorite thing was to go tubing. You ever gone tubing?”

Link tried to remember. “On time, at a waterpark,” he whispered. It had been with his ex and his family, and the park had been hot, loud, and crowded. Link didn’t enjoy it very much, but it would probably be much better on a river.

Rhett nodded in approval and kept talking. Link started trying to pay attention to what he was saying. “Yeah, so you know how chill it is, but imagine that instead of chlorine and a bunch of screaming kids, you have this beautiful clear cold mountain water and all these thick green trees. Pine trees, mostly. I don’t know what kind, but they’re so _green_ , like wildly, intensely green.” He rubbed Link’s hand between his as he kept talking. It was nice. Link had been deprived of a lot of things over the past couple weeks, and physical kindness was one of them. “So you get your tube--I like to get a fancy tube, with cupholders and a backrest--and you put on your swimsuit and your hat and your sunglasses with a strap so you don’t lose them, and you climb on and you start floating. I want you to imagine with me, okay?”

Link would love to be anywhere but locked in this basement, so he closed his eyes and said, “Okay,” and gave Rhett’s hand a squeeze, which made him jump.

Rhett gathered himself. “So you’re in your tube, and the sun is hot and you’re warm all over, except your feet and your butt where they’re in the water. Maybe your hands, too, and you can dip your head back and get your hair wet, if you want. And if you really plan ahead, you can bring some beer.”

“I could go for a beer right about now,” Link mumbled. _Or six_. He was actually feeling a lot better, although he was still upset and jittery. Rhett laughed. He sounded relieved.

“It’s not even 11am, Link. But you know, you can do anything you want on the river. What kind of animals do you think you’d see?”

Link had no idea what sort of animals one might in upstate New York, so he chose something generic. “Um, a hawk?”

“Sure.” Rhett kept talking, describing a hawk flying down to the river to snatch up a fish. Link listened contentedly. He was pretty sure that if he told Rhett that he thought there were zebras in the Adirondacks, Rhett would happily make up a tale of zebras coming down to drink at the water’s edge.

It made him realize just how much he liked Rhett. More than a captive should like his captor, that was for sure. Link had heard of Stockholm Syndrome, of course, but he wasn’t sure he really qualified. Rhett was the only captor he had positive feelings towards, and he didn’t really support their goals (other than agreeing that his dad shouldn’t be such a stubborn, tighfisted jackass).

At some point he realized he was only half listening to Rhett, so Link shook himself out of his thoughts and tried to focus. It was obvious Rhett loved the Hudson, and it really did sound wonderful, the way he described it.

“...and that’s it,” Rhett concluded. He gave Link a once over. “You look like you’re feelin’ better.”

Link nodded. His stomach was unknotted, his breathing had slowed down, and he was only a little shaky. Rhett’s float trip worked better than yoga. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. He didn’t think Rhett knew how much he meant it, though.

“You’re welcome. I wasn’t sure that would work.” Rhett looked down, like he’d forgotten he was holding Link’s hand. Link didn’t want him to let go, but he did. Link took his hand back reluctantly. Rhett was the only good thing in this hellhole.

If Rhett wasn’t around, Link didn’t know what he would do.

He knew what he wanted to do now, though. 

“Let’s do that sometime, when this is all over,” Link said. What he meant was, _let’s be friends._

“I’d like that.” Rhett gave Link a smile, and Link was sure his invitation was accepted. He felt his cheeks turning pink, so he looked down, and realized he was still sitting on the bathroom floor. “Oh, here.” Rhett stood and helped Link up. Again, they held hands just a little longer than necessary.

Link realized he was completely exhausted. “I’m gonna go back to sleep.”

“I’ll wake you up for lunch,” Rhett said. “You want the air mattress?”

“Yeah.”

The blankets had the citrusy smell of Rhett’s pomade or whatever it was, and Link fell asleep right away.


	14. Chapter 14

Link found it very satisfying to string up his cranes. The little _crunch_ of the needle going through paper pleased him to no end. It also had novelty value--an activity that wasn’t making cranes, reading, or yoga.

“What are you going to do when Portelli comes tomorrow morning?” Rhett asked from his chair.

Link looked over. “You can’t stay, right?” Rhett shook his head. “I didn’t think so. And I don’t really think I’d want you to.”

“Why not?” Rhett asked.

“Because it’s really fucking demeaning, that’s why.” _And I know you and Portelli already dislike each other, and I don’t think I could deal with that situation_. “You ever have those dreams where you’re naked in class taking a test you haven’t studied for? It’s kind of like that. Like, if I could just wake up…”

Rhett nodded. “Usually I dream that I’m trying to drive from the passenger seat or the back seat, and I can’t reach the brakes. My dad told me once that’s a classic ‘you aren’t in control of your life’ dream.”

“Well, he’s right, isn’t he? You _aren’t_ in control right now,” Link pointed out. He held up a string of fifty cranes and admired it for a moment.

Rhett burst into laughter. “Yeah, that’s true. I never really put that together before. Man, I miss him.”

“When did he pass?” Link asked. His own mother had passed away when he was only three.

Rhett flapped a hand dismissively. “Oh, he’s not dead. I’ve just been keeping my distance from my parents and my brother and his family since I got involved in all this. They think I’m working way up north in Canada installing turbines on a windfarm, but I actually steal all the stories and pictures from some guy’s blog.”

Link imagined him in a hard hat, harness, and hi viz vest, dangling off a windmill blade high above the ground, while a polar bear looked up at him. Was that accurate? Probably not. “You better donate to that guy’s Patreon.”

“I don’t think he has one,” Rhett admitted.

“Then tell him to make one, because you owe him _big_.” Earlier, Link had taken one of the little spools of thread from the sewing kit and tied the end to one of the poorly drilled in screws (a wood screw, he noted, not a drywall screw. Whoever had refinished this room had no familiarity with building codes) and stretched it back and forth to another screw to make a horizontal line to hang his strings of cranes from. He tied his most recent one up and quickly counted them. “So that’s six hundred up there so far, and I have at least another hundred already folded.”

“So what’s your wish gonna be?” Rhett asked as Link sat back down at the table.

Link picked his needle up again. “I haven’t decided yet.” That wasn’t exactly true, but it was close enough.

“ _Really_?”

“You have to be careful with wishes, Rhett. Gotta make sure they don’t backfire or cause a lot of unintended consequences.” Anyone who’d ever read _The Monkey’s Paw_ knew that. Link started counting out another group of cranes.

“I’ll take your word for it. Can I give you a suggestion, though?”

“About my wish?” Link’s current crane was made from a sturdier paper than the rest, so he pushed the needle extra hard. It burst through and stabbed him in the thumb. “Ow!” He stuck it in his mouth before he could see the blood welling up.

“No, about Portelli,” Rhett said.

“Oh.” God, he hated Portelli. “Yeah, I guess,” Link mumbled around his thumb.

“He gets off on making people uncomfortable, so try to hide as much of that as you can.” Rhett was very earnest in his advice. “And at least you know what to expect tomorrow.”

“That’s it?” Link had figured that out after about a minute’s acquaintance with Portelli.

“Uh, yes?”

Poor Rhett. He really did mean well. “I don’t think that’s actually as helpful as you think it is, but thanks.”

Rhett sighed. “Okay, how about this: I’ll try to come back as quickly as I can.”

“ _That_ actually does sound helpful.” _Especially if you hold my hand and do another guided meditation_. Link gave him a genuine smile.

“And do you want a bandaid for that?” Rhett nodded at his thumb. Link supposed the first aid kit was still around somewhere.

“Nah.” It had stopped bleeding. “I’m tougher than I look,” he teased Rhett, who laughed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next day’s documentation pictures were nearly as awful, even though Link now knew what to expect from Portelli. He didn’t even try to calm down with yoga afterwards. Instead, he just curled up on the couch, shivering under a blanket.

The door beeped and Rhett entered. Link felt the couch dip as Rhett sat by his feet. He sat there for a while without speaking. Finally, he said, “Is there anything I can do?”

Link turned himself around on the hideous couch with a lot of undignified flailing, ending up with his head next to Rhett’s leg. He pulled the blanket off his face, not caring if Rhett saw how red and blotchy it surely was. “Can you do another guided meditation?”

“A what?” Rhett asked.

Link was a little surprised Rhett didn’t know what that was. He’d done it so beautifully. “Guided meditation. It’s a pretty common relaxation technique.”

“Is it? I was just trying to distract you.”

“Distract me again,” Link pled. “Ugh, I hate him.” Portelli had faked hitting him twice today. Even though Link knew he wouldn’t actually make contact, it still made him sick with anxiety and adrenaline. He scooted closer to Rhett and grabbed his hand. 

Rhett twitched a little, like he hadn’t been expecting Link to touch him. “Anything specific you want to imagine?” he asked. Link didn’t care, so he shook his head, but he was interested by Rhett’s tone of voice. It sounded like there was _something_ there. Things were changing between them.

“People always think of the prairie as being gone, and it is, mostly, but here and there are places that have never been plowed, never been planted. Virgin prairie.” Rhett spun a tale of a place outside Kansas City where you could go and see the prairie as it was meant to be. Link closed his eyes and listened to Rhett describe how the tall grass would ripple like waves in the wind. _Amber waves of grain_ , Link thought.

He’d be happy to listen to Rhett’s stories forever. Link relaxed into the lumpy couch cushions and started to drift off to sleep. He didn’t know how long he’d been dozing when something touched his forehead.

Link jerked back and looked up. Rhett had his free hand pulled back, an alarmed look on his face. “Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t--” he began, but Link cut him off.

“Rhett, no.” Link was suddenly desperate. He reached out and grabbed Rhett’s raised hand. “It’s okay. I was just startled. You… you can touch me.” _Please touch me._

“You want a hug?” Rhett asked. The question hung in the air, their relationship delicately suspended beneath it. Link’s answer, no matter what he said, would change things.

Link found that he wanted a hug more than anything. “Please.”

“Then sit up, because this position is awful.” Rhett pulled Link up to sit next to him. Link fit perfectly, and having Rhett’s arms wrapped around him was heavenly. His boundaries and walls were all gone now. 

“That good?” Rhett asked.

“It’s very good.” It was better than good. It was perfect. Link had been locked away for over two weeks, and he’d grabbed and hoarded every scrap of kindness that Rhett had shown him and locked them deep in his heart. Now he had this. It was more than kindness. It was understanding, it was sympathy, it was affection.

“I wish I met you in a different way,” Link said. It was the only way he could articulate his feelings. _I like you, I want to be friends, I hate this._

Rhett understood. He squeezed Link a little tighter. “Me too.”

“Rhett.” Link’s thoughts were all over the place, but there was something he needed to know. “Am I gonna be okay?”

There was a long moment of silence while Rhett considered this. Finally, he said, “Physically? Yeah, probably. But you’re probably gonna have nightmares for a long time.”

Link was trapped in the trunk every night in his dreams. He laughed. “I already do. Then I wake up and I’m still here.”

“You’re gonna get out of here,” Rhett said. He sounded certain.

Link was skeptical. “How can you be so sure? You don’t even really know how the negotiations are going.”

“Demetrius said something about ‘non-monetary assets’ coming into play,” Rhett said. “Whatever the fuck _that_ means. But I’m sure because I’ll get you out of here myself, if I have to.”

Images of Willen and Portelli going after Rhett flashed through Link’s mind. “Rhett!”

Rhett grabbed him and stared into Link’s eyes. His eyes were green and intense. “Link, I swear,” he whispered fiercely. “This is wrong, it’s all wrong. You shouldn’t be here. You didn’t do anything to deserve this. That first night, when I fixed up your face, I knew that I’d, uh, switched teams? My alliance had changed? Whatever. I was on your side. Like reverse Stockholm Syndrome.”

 _Oh_. Link didn’t know what to say about that. Warm affection bloomed in his chest. “So what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know!” Rhett sounded miserable and frustrated. “If you just get ransomed and go home safely, that would be the best, but who knows how long that’ll take? Your dad’s a stubborn jackass.” He rubbed his face and ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up all over.

That was putting it mildly, in Link’s opinion. “You sure got him figured out.”

“So we could wait, but the longer you’re here, the more dangerous it is,” said Rhett. “Someone could find out about us, one of us could get hurt, all kinds of things could go wrong.” His shoulders slumped as he spoke.

“Yeah.” Link didn’t have anything else to say to that.

“I could break you out and take you home, but then I’d be a fugitive from the law _and_ these assholes. Which would suck, and wouldn’t last very long, anyway.” He sighed and put his arms back around Link, who leaned against him.

“Let’s run away to somewhere that doesn’t have an extradition treaty with the US,” Link suggested. “Somewhere tropical.” That’s what they’d do in the movie version of their lives, anyway.

Rhett laughed. “I like the way you think. But I’ve been thinking about this a lot. Like, it’s almost all I think about: how do we get out of this? Because it’s us against them, now.”

“I know,” Link whispered. He thought it had probably been that way since the very beginning.

Rhett hugged him tighter. “So this is what I think. You’re not gonna like it. I like it even less.” He took a deep breath. “I think the next best thing to you getting safely ransomed is for us to leave and go right to a police station and turn ourselves in.”

Link’s stomach dropped. “Rhett, _no_!” He felt like screaming.

“Yes!” Rhett had tears in his eyes. His voice was low and intense. “There’s no way out for me, Link! I’ve thought about it a million times, from every angle. If I try to run, they’ll chase me. Maybe go after my family, too. I’d rather go to prison than let that happen. If you get ransomed, you’re going to have to give a statement, and then the police will be after me. I can’t run, Link, I don’t know how. There’s no way for this to end without me in prison, back here in a worse situation, or dead. I really think my best bet is to give myself up, turn state’s evidence, and try to get a reduced sentence.”

“God, Rhett.” It was Link’s turn to hold Rhett. Link’s current situation was worse than his, but his future outlook was far bleaker than Link’s. “I hate this. You’re right, there’s no way out. There’s never been a way out.”

“Nope.” Rhett took a deep breath. “So, knowing I’m going to turn myself in to the police either way, do you want to wait longer on the ransom, or do you want me to break you out?”

The thought knocked the wind out of Link. “Whoa. That’s a hell of a choice.”

“I know,” Rhett said. “I’m sorry.”

 _It’s not your fault_. “Can I just stay here with you like this, and make my choice later?” If things were going to end the same either way, Link’s choice was going to be whatever gave him more time to be with Rhett like this.

Rhett did his best to smile. “Yeah. I like that.”


	15. Chapter 15

Link wasn’t stupid. He knew that by not making a decision, he was making a decision.

He wasn’t waiting in the hope that his dad would pay up (Link still thought that was unlikely unless the ransom dropped a lot more. He certainly didn’t think he was worth forty million dollars, but he wasn’t the one making that particular decision). He was waiting because the longer he waited, the more time he got to spend with Rhett.

It was a problem on several levels. Rhett was right that things got more and more dangerous for both of them every day, but the thing Link worried about most was the emotional fallout that he knew was coming.

Rhett was going to prison. That much was almost certain. That meant two things:

One--He was going to have to testify against Rhett in court.

Two--He wouldn’t get to spend time with Rhett anymore.

Link treasured the time he spent with Rhett. He’d never felt so comfortable with anyone. The guided meditations, the discussions about the books they read, the time they spent together without needing to talk--he didn’t want to give it up.

One night, just under three weeks after Link was kidnapped and a few days after Portelli showed back up, they finally discussed it. Rhett was lying on the couch, with Link on top of him, his head resting on Rhett’s chest. He could smell Rhett’s citrusy beard oil (for that’s what it was). If only they hadn’t been caught up in this hostage scheme, it would have been perfect.

“What do you want to eat when you get out of here?” Rhett asked.

“A salad. Spring mix with carrots and radishes and bean sprouts. And raspberry vinaigrette.” Link craved fresh produce like he was a starving rabbit. The apples and bananas Rhett brought him didn’t cut it. “I never want to see another fast food burger as long as I live.”

Rhett laughed, making Link’s head jiggle. “Oh, you don’t really mean that.”

“Okay, maybe not.” There were still plenty of chains that hadn’t shown up during his captivity. Still, though. “I don’t want to see another fast food burger for a really, really long time.”

Link lifted his head and looked into Rhett’s cool green eyes. “Are you scared?” He didn’t need to specify what Rhett might be scared of.

“Of going to prison?” Well, maybe Rhett needed to specify. Link wondered what else he might be scared of, but he just nodded instead of asking.

“Well, yeah. Who wouldn’t be? It’s _supposed_ to be scary.” He rubbed Link’s back, more to soothe himself than Link. “But I can make it through. The thing that scares me most is not knowing how long it’s gonna be.”

“I wish it wasn’t like this.” Maybe, thought Link, he could use his cranes for that wish. It seemed like a lot to ask, though.

“Me too. I’ve done enough illegal things that I was probably headed there even before all this, though. It’s easier to ignore the bad things you’ve done when they’re all numbers on a computer screen, you know? But then I think about how many peoples’ lives I’ve ruined by fucking up their finances, probably sending them into bankruptcy, making them lose their homes… I’m not a good person.” Rhett’s brow furrowed in pain.

Link reached up and ran his hand through Rhett’s hair, trying to make him relax. “You’re good to me,” he said simply. 

Rhett laughed. It sounded a little bitter. “Yeah, well, you’re the first, uh… I don’t want to call you a ‘victim’, but--”

“I feel pretty fuckin’ victimized, Rhett.”

“Okay, fair. The first _victim_ I’ve really been involved with. Like, I’ve gone out on jobs with Willen and Portelli before, but only as a driver or to disable alarm systems, that sort of thing. Nothing directly involving a person.”

Link didn’t like the thought of Rhett working with Willen and Portelli. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Rhett asked, surprised. “None of this is your fault.”

“I know, it’s just…” Link tried to put his thoughts into words. “I mean, the first night I was here and you fixed my face, you were so gentle. And you were nice to me. Got Chipotle and talked to me like I was a regular person. I didn’t trust you, though.”

“Honestly? I don’t blame you in the least,” Rhett said.

“Well, you _did_ lie to me about your name,” Link said primly. “I thought y’all were doing some kind of good cop/bad cop routine, and you were the good cop. I didn’t want to play along.” He didn’t tell Rhett about his failed attempts at walls and boundaries.

Rhett thought that was very funny. “Is _that_ why you were giving me the silent treatment?”

“Yeah, but then I figured out how stupid that was.” _And how stupid it was to try and stay away from the only good thing here._ “I’m not like an enemy spy or something. You’re not keeping me here to get information out of me. I’m just an asset. A thing.”

“ _Link_ ,” Rhett said gently. He combed his fingers through Link’s hair. “You’re not a thing. You’re a person.”

“To you, maybe, but not to them,” Link said bitterly.

“You know we can leave any time you want, right?” Rhett asked.

Link slid his hand to the back of Rhett’s neck and played with the short hair there. “I’m scared, Rhett,” he admitted.

“Of what, baby?”

 _Baby._ Both warmth and despair swept over Link. He did his best to keep it together, even though he wanted to scream and cry over the unfairness of it all. “I’m scared to stay. I’m sure you know why,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“But if we leave…” Link didn’t want to speak the words and make them real, but he had to. “You turn yourself in, and then what? A big investigation and trial. I have to testify and be in the middle of a media circus for ages. You go to prison for who knows how long. And that… is that how it ends for us?”

“ _Is_ there an us?” It was a good question. “Do you honestly think we’d have any sort of relationship if we weren’t locked in here together? Or would we just go our separate ways?”

Link looked up into Rhett’s beautiful green eyes. _Yes, there is an us._ “Don’t you want to find out?”

“Guess we’ll find out one way or another, baby,” Rhett said softly, and there wasn’t anything more to say.


	16. Chapter 16

Link had been working overtime on his cranes. He’d figured out his wish.

There was a square of paper he’d been saving for his thousandth crane. It was from a grocery store ad that he’d carefully selected because it showed a bunch of fruits and vegetables. Link had an aunt who was a quilter, and one summer when he went to stay with her, she let him select fabrics to make a quilt for him. When she cut them to carefully frame certain patterns, she called it _fussy cutting_. Link fussy cut (fussy tore?) his ad around a picture of multicolored peppers.

He took it out and started folding. _When this is all over, when Rhett and I are both home safe, I wish that we can spend time together._ Link repeated it over and over, until the crane was finished. It was realistic and he was pretty sure it covered all his bases.

He picked up the needle and thread. His final string has forty nine cranes on it. Link strung up his pepper crane and tied the thread off.

“Rhett, look. I’m done.” Link took his string over and tied it up with the others. He’d imagined that they’d hang in nice straight rows, but instead the strings of cranes slid to the middle of the drooping thread, and they hung in a sad clump. But they were all there.

“Did you figure out your wish?”

“Mmhmm.” Link nodded. “I wished that, when this is all over and you and I are both home safe, we can still spend time together.”

“You put me in your wish?” Rhett whispered, his eyes wide with shock.

“Of course.” Wasn’t it obvious? “You’re trapped here, just like me.”

Rhett could barely speak. “I don’t… Link… I…” He took a deep, shuddery breath, and Link saw tears in his eyes. “Thank you. Really and truly, thank you.”

No matter what happened now, they were bound by the wish. Link realized he was happy, actually _happy_. He grinned at Rhett, who pulled him into a fierce hug and held him tight. It made Link realize how stressed Rhett was about everything, so he squeezed Rhett tight, too.

It was a bittersweet happiness.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a significant act of violence in this chapter that results in a lot of blood. No graphic descriptions, but certainly something to be aware of if you're sensitive to that sort of thing.
> 
> No update to Lima Syndrome today.

Link didn’t know what to do with himself, now that he was done with his cranes. Lunch had come and gone. Rhett was out running his errands and Portelli was outside the room, doing whatever it was that he did. Link didn’t know and he didn’t care as long as Portelli stayed outside.

He sat at the card table with the newspaper in front of him and twiddled his thumbs. He couldn’t remember how to fold any other origami creatures, and he didn’t have a pen so he couldn’t draw anything.

Instead, Link just leaned forward and rested his chin on his hands. He thought about his relationship with Rhett. Rhett was good, Rhett was kind, Rhett was wonderful. He made Link happy.

Link was going to miss him so much.

He’d been lost in thought for a while when the door beeped. Link glanced at his clock. Rhett was early. He turned to the door with a smile on his face.

It fell away in shock when Willen entered the room.

“Where’s Rhett?” Link demanded. He knew better than to question Willen, but he had to know.

Willen ignored him. “Get in the bathroom,” he said. “Now.”

“I…” Link slowly got up from the green resin chair and held his hands up in supplication. “Please.” He didn’t know what he was asking for.

“ _Now_.”

Link walked into the bathroom and stood there as Willen shut the door. He could hear the padlock snapping into place outside. He was trapped.

“Oh god,” Link whispered, running his hands through his hair. “What’s going on? Where’s Rhett? _Fuck_.”

He sat on the closed toilet and tried to slow his breathing by imagining going through sun salutations in his mind. He tried remembering one of Rhett’s guided meditations, the river float or the waving prairie grass or the canyon hike, all to no avail. Link’s stomach clenched and his hands shook.

Link could hear noises and voices in the room outside. He recognized them as belonging to Willen and Portelli. What were they _doing_ out there? And where was Rhett?

It was maybe fifteen minutes later that Willen unlocked the door. He was wearing a ski mask and black gloves. Link’s blood ran cold.

“Hands behind your back,” Willen said. Link gaped at him, but complied. He vividly remembered the last time he disobeyed Willen. The bridge of his nose was still healing from it.

Willen did something painful to Link’s arms, twisting them up behind his back. Link hissed in pain. Willen hauled him out into the room, and Link saw what he and Portelli had been doing.

There was a laptop and a camera on a tripod on the card table. Link could see a video call on the laptop, featuring a man with a sick look on his face, and a little live feed of the room in the corner. Portelli stood in front of the camera. He was also wearing gloves and a mask, and held a boxcutter.

The man was Link’s father.

Link’s eyes widened in shock and fear as he realized what was happening. His father, the camera, the masks, the knife--the negotiations must have broken down. They were going to show his dad that they meant business.

“Dad!” he shrieked. “Dad, please! Help! Oh god, plea--” His cries were cut off as Willen, still keeping Link’s arms in an iron grip, reached up, grabbed his hair, and pulled back his head. Portelli reached out with the boxcutter and sliced it across Link’s throat without fanfare.

Things went blank for a moment. Link was loosely aware that his father’s screams in the background were cut off as the laptop was slammed shut. He lay on the floor where Willen had dropped him, eyes squeezed shut and hands on his throat.

There was so much blood. It poured through his fingers, thick and warm.

So much blood.

“What the fuck was that?” Willen hissed at Portelli. “You were supposed to cut his face!”

Portelli didn’t say anything. Link assumed he just shrugged.

“The boss is going to fucking kill you, you fucking idiot,” Willen said as he gathered up the equipment. “I’m going to talk to him right now. You stay here and deal with McLaughlin if he shows back up.”

Rhett might come back! Link clung to that thought as Portelli dumped him on the bathroom floor and threw one of the white t-shirts at him. He heard the lock snap shut on the outside of the bathroom door.

 _So this is how it ends_ , Link thought as he pressed the shirt to his neck. _Bleeding out on a filthy bathroom floor in some godforsaken basement, and all for nothing._

But maybe Rhett would come back.


	18. Chapter 18

The door kept beeping. Each time it did, Link’s hopes rose a little, and then were dashed when he heard Willen and Portelli talking to each other. From what he could make out, it sounded like they were trying to change the combination to the electronic lock, presumably to keep Rhett out. They must have found out about his friendship with Link somehow, despite how careful they’d been.

Eventually, they must have figured it out, because everything went quiet. Link was alone, locked in the bathroom of another locked room, bleeding. He tried to figure out what was going on.

Ransom negotiations had failed, obviously, so they decided to put on a show for Link’s dad. Willen said Portelli was supposed to cut his face, but he’d cut Link’s throat instead. Why, Link had no idea. Possibly just because Portelli was a psycho.

But now, if they’d wanted him to be mostly unharmed, why weren’t they doing anything to help him? Was there a reason they didn’t care if he died? That didn’t make sense to Link, either. There had to be things going on that he didn’t know about.

There was a knock at the door. Link thought he heard his name.

“In her--” he tried to yell, but his voice broke. There was something very, very wrong with his throat. Link tried again. “Rhe--” He started coughing, and tasted blood in his mouth. Somehow, that was more frightening than anything else.

Another knock. It sounded like someone banging their fist on the door. Link heard his name clearly this time. Rhett was out there. Link banged his own fist on the bathroom door. He didn’t think Rhett could hear him.

There was a very loud blow to the door, followed by silence. Link rapped his knuckles on the bathroom door. No answer. He closed his eyes and pushed the soaked shirt back onto his neck. If Rhett couldn’t open the door, he was doomed.

It was so unfair.

Link didn’t notice when the lights outside the bathroom went out, but he did notice a tearing, cracking, splintering sound. It sounded like it was coming from the wall opposite the bathroom door. Was Rhett tearing down a wall? How could he do that in a basement? It was another mystery. 

The destructive sounds seemed like they went on and on. When they finally stopped, there was a scrambling sound followed by a _crunch_ as the padlock and hasp where ripped off the door and it was pulled open.

Rhett.

Rhett was here, and he was going to save Link.

“Oh god, Link, what did they do to you?” Rhett dropped the crowbar he was holding and reached out to take the bloody shirt away from Link’s neck. He shook his head and held the shirt tight. “C’mon, baby, let me see.” Rhett carefully pried it away. He sucked in his breath at what was underneath.

“ _Fuck_. Can you get up? Can you walk?”

Link pushed himself up into a sitting position. His hands were covered in blood. “Think so,” he whispered. His voice _gurgled_. He kept the shirt pressed against his neck with one hand and Rhett grabbed the other to help him up.

He leaned on the arm of the couch as Rhett pulled his shoes out from underneath and helped him put them on. Link was glad they were slip-ons. He felt weak and dizzy, and he was incredibly thirsty for some reason.

Rhett stood and took his hand. “Anything you want to take?” 

_My cranes_. “No.”

There really was a hole in the wall. Rhett had actually torn through the wall with a crowbar, and he helped Link through. Link was shocked to see that they were not in a basement. The room was a ramshackle little enclosure built into the corner of a warehouse. It was huge and empty and _bright_. Link squinted, unused to sunlight after three weeks with no windows. It was beautiful.

Rhett took the bloody shirt and folded it into a long rectangle, and tied it around Link’s neck. Link leaned against the outside wall of the room and watched him pace back and forth, thinking out loud. He rubbed his hand through his beard and hair, smearing them with blood.

“Shit. Okay, my van is three blocks away. You can’t walk around like that in the middle of the afternoon. Shit. Shit. You’re gonna have to hide. It’s only gonna be a minute.”

Link didn’t think he could walk three blocks. “Where?” he whispered.

Rhett chewed his bottom lip and ran his hands through his hair again. “There’s a little alcove outside. Be a good place to hide from the wind if you were a smoker. Just… stay back in it, and when I pull up and open the door, I want you to get inside as quick as you can, okay?”

That sounded fine to Link, so he nodded. Rhett ran to the warehouse door and peeked out to see if the coast was clear. He came back to Link and hugged him and kissed his forehead. “Okay. Be brave, baby. This is almost over.” Link squeezed him back. Neither care about the blood smeared everywhere. Rhett took his hand and led Link towards the door. As they rounded the outer corner of the room, Link was delighted to see Portelli collapsed off to the side of the door.

Once they were outside, Rhett tucked Link into the smoker’s alcove and sprinted off. Link slumped against the bricks and tried to think. It was getting harder and harder the more blood he lost, but this was important. Rhett knocked out Portelli and tore down a wall to rescue him.

 _I think Rhett loves me._ He couldn’t think of any other explanation.

A white panel van pulled up in front of Link, Rhett at the wheel. He parked and pulled the back door open. Link heaved himself up off the wall and went over as quickly as he could. He was so weak, so tired. Rhett practically had to lift him into the back of the van.

“We’re going to the hospital. You’ve lost a lot of blood,” Rhett said as he climbed back into the driver's seat. Link looked down at his soaked sriracha shirt. _No shit_. He looked up and met Rhett’s worried green eyes in the rearview mirror.

“What’d you do to Portelli?”

“Smashed him in the head with a crowbar,” Rhett said. He sounded both proud and ashamed of himself.

Link was just proud of him. “ _Good_. That book you gave me… Slow Horses, where they were gonna kill the kid live on the internet?” Talking was hard, but he needed Rhett to know what had happened.

“Yeah.”

“That’s what they did, set up a video feed to my dad.” Link coughed. More blood in his mouth. “They were in ski masks and gloves and Willen pulled my head back and Portelli cut me. I could see my dad watching.”

“Jesus Christ.” Rhett looked back at him, his eyes pained and sorrowful. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I should have gotten you out of there sooner.”

“Not your fault. Wasn’t your choice.” Link closed his eyes. There was so much more he wanted to tell Rhett, but he was so dizzy, so tired. _I’m sorry, if I’d know it would be like this I would have let you rescue me earlier, I’m going to miss you so much, thank you, thank you, thank you for everything…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> END OF ACT I
> 
> Serial readers: we will leave Link here for now and follow Rhett's side of things in Lima Syndrome Chapter 17.
> 
> Archival readers: you can do what you want but I suggest following the above instructions.


	19. Chapter 19

Link knew he was in the hospital before he even opened his eyes. The antiseptic smell, the people hurrying by outside, the occasional pages overhead...they were all dead giveaways.

If he was in the hospital, that meant he was safe. And if he was safe, that meant Rhett…

_Rhett._

He hadn’t been able to thank Rhett. He hadn’t even been able to say goodbye. Tears began to slip down Link’s cheeks.

_I love him. And he’s gone. Maybe forever._

“Hey, what’s wrong?” A nurse in purple scrubs with short black hair entered his room. “Are you in pain?”

Link tried to shake his head and realized he was wearing a neckbrace. He opened his mouth to speak.

“--”

Nothing came out. His eyes opened wide in fear. He looked at the nurse, pleading for help. She held up her hands.

“Don’t panic. You’re okay. Your larynx--your voicebox--was damaged. Dr. Washington repaired it, but there’s a lot of swelling. It’ll go down in time, but for now you have a tracheotomy so you can breathe.”

Link reached up and felt his neck. The front of the brace was open. Most of this throat was covered with a bandage, but at the base, a little above where his collarbones met, was a plastic circle with a hole in the middle. He could feel his breath moving in and out. Experimentally, he tried inhaling through his mouth. Nothing happened.

The nurse handed him a notepad and a pen. “Do you have any questions?” Link took them and wrote two words.

_Where’s Rhett?_

“That’s the guy who brought you in?”

_Yes_

The nurse sighed. “He asked us to call the police so he could surrender. They arrested him.”

Link dropped the notepad and pen and covered his face with his hands. Rhett had done exactly what he said he would do. Link wanted to sob, but it turned out that required a working throat, so he just sat there with his shoulders shaking and tears streaming down his face.

“I’m sorry, honey,” the nurse said. Link picked up the notepad.

_He saved my life_

“He did,” she agreed. “You lost a lot of blood. They had to give you a transfusion.”

How strange, to think of the blood of a generous stranger pumping through his veins.

_What about the other kidnappers?_

“Your friend told the cops where to find them. They all got arrested, too.”

That was a relief. Link relaxed just a tiny bit. The nurse checked his pulse. “Your dad’s going to be here tomorrow.” Link waited for her to release his hand before writing.

_This is his fault_

“Do you want me to block him so he can’t see you?” she asked. Link raised his eyebrows in surprise.

_I can do that?_

“Of course,” the nurse said. She turned to check his IV bag and he saw her ID. Her name was Sunshine. “You don’t have to see anyone if you don’t want to.” Link tapped the pen on the notepad as he considered this.

_Can I kick him out if I need to?_

“Absolutely, and I’ll tell you a secret,” Sunshine said. She leaned closer and gave him a conspiratorial grin. “We _love_ throwing out asshole family members.”

Link’s lips twitched into a little smile at the idea of his dad being ejected from the room by Sunshine, who was maybe five feet tall and 110 pounds. It was an excellent visual.

_Then I guess he can come_

“Sounds good,” she said. “I’m going to let Dr. Washington know you’re awake now so he can go over the surgery with you.”

_Thank you_

Sunshine patted his shoulder and left. Link leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. Rhett was gone. His dad was coming tomorrow. Things just kept getting better and better. He tried to sigh, but apparently that required a working throat as well.

While he waited for the doctor, Link spent some time making a sort of ouija board of common phrases that he could point at instead of writing them out each time. _Yes, no, maybe, why, I don’t know, please, thank you._

Dr. Washington was a distinguished looking older man with a white pencil mustache and a strong Boston accent. He spent a good half hour with Link, going over his surgery and prognosis. Link could expect to have the tracheotomy and neck brace for three or four days, at which point they would begin covering the trach to see if he could breathe on his own. He would also have to be on a liquid diet until then. Once the trach was closed, Link would need to spend at least a month speaking as little as possible.

The conversation exhausted Link. He fell back asleep as soon as the doctor left.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“You’re dad’s here,” Link’s morning nurse (whose name he didn’t know) told him as he finished his breakfast of chicken broth, black coffee, and orange jello. He picked up his pen.

_How do I get someone to kick him out if I need to?_

“Just hit your call button,” she said. “There’s a big alert on your electronic chart, so everyone knows.”

Link tried to nod, failed, and pointed at _thank you_ on his ouija board. She gave him a thumbs up, took his empty tray, and left.

Mr. Neal entered, followed by a woman Link recognized as his long time assistant. He was glad to see her. Maybe her presence would help his dad not be so awful.

_Hi Dad. Hi Amanda._

Amanda gave him a little wave and sat in the chair in the corner. Mr. Neal stood next to Link’s bed, looking uncomfortable.

“Link…” He took a deep breath.

The interesting thing about not being able to talk, Link realized, was that the other person felt obligated to fill up the silence. He just looked at his dad.

“Link, I’m sorry. I spoke with the police, and what I thought was happening wasn’t the truth. If I’d known…” Mr. Neal’s shoulders slumped. Link snatched up his pen and scribbled furiously.

_You knew I was being held hostage, right?_

“I did.”

_Wasn’t that enough? What more did you need? 50mil is a drop in the bucket for you! Why couldn’t you pay and let the police investigate once I was safe? I almost died!_

Mr. Neal sighed in exasperation. “It’s not that simple.”

_It is! You ruined my life_

“I…” Mr. Neal looked over at Amanda for help, but she had no idea what Link had written, so she just shrugged a little. He turned back to Link, who was writing.

_I know you love your news channel more than you love me, but please don’t make me into a story_

“I can’t censor the news.” Link noted that he didn’t dispute that he loved his news channel more. He hit the call button. The morning nurse appeared a few moments later.

“Do you need me to, ah…” she jerked her head at Mr. Neal. Link nodded as much as the neck brace would let him. “Sir, may I speak to you in the hallway for a moment?” she asked politely.

Mr. Neal looked at her, then to Link, then back at the nurse. “Um, sure.” He followed her out, and she shut the door behind her. It wasn’t as dramatic as Link had imagined it would be, but it was effective.

“Hey.” Link jumped a little. He’d forgotten that his dad’s assistant Amanda was still in the room. “I’m sorry about him.”

Link liked Amanda. He didn’t know how or why she put up with his dad. He flipped to a new page on his notepad.

_Typical of him_

“Well, we both know he’s not good at feelings,” Amanda said. Link thought that was putting it mildly. “He really is sorry, though.”

_If he were sorry he would give me privacy_

Amanda sighed. “Can I talk to you about some logistical stuff? Legal representation, that sort of thing?”

Link blinked. He hadn’t thought about that at all.

_Sure_

“Okay.” Amanda pulled the chair up next to his bed. “Your dad’s hired a very good lawyer who specializes in kidnappings for you, and he’s going to cover all your medical and legal fees.”

_How generous of him_

“He also wants to install a security system on your house and hire you an assistant while you get back on your feet.”

_Ok for security but why would I need an assistant?_

Amanda shrugged. “To keep track of your medical appointments, run errands, whatever you need, really.” She noticed Link’s uncertain, unhappy expression. “You don’t have to decide right now.”

_Ok_

She pulled a card out of her bag and gave it to Link. “It’s a lot to think about, I know. But if you need anything-- _anything_ \--just get in touch with me, okay? I’ll deal with your dad for you.”

Link pointed to _thank you_ on his ouija board. Amanda took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, Link.” Link squeezed her hand back. His dad didn’t deserve Amanda.

She left, and he was alone with his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One time I was in the hospital and my nurses were, I kid you not, Karma and Sunshine.


	20. Chapter 20

Amanda came back that afternoon with a new phone for Link and a woman with a large messenger bag and a long blonde bob. She introduced her to Link as his lawyer, Jen Matichuk, before leaving.

“Nice to meet you,” Jen said as she shook Link’s hand. “Please call me Jen.”

_I will once I can talk_

“Fair enough.” Jen sat in the chair next to Link’s bed and pulled a laptop out of her bag. She handed it to Link. “I thought typing would be easier for you, since we’re going to have a lot to talk about.”

Link pointed to _yes_ and _thank you_ on his ouija board and opened the laptop. It was fully charged, so he set his notepad aside and opened Word instead.

Jen had a lot of detailed questions for him, and Link was thankful for the laptop. They talked for about two hours before he was too tired to continue.

_Just don’t go after Rhett, that’s all I care about_

“Has anyone suggested that you speak with a therapist about this?” Jen asked. She drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair. “I’m a little concerned about your relationship with him.”

Ouija board time. _No why_

“One of the main signs of Stockholm Syndrome is unwillingness to cooperate with law enforcement,” she said and held up a hand at his outraged look. “I’m not saying you have Stockholm Syndrome. I’m just saying it’s something to look into. You’ll need to see a therapist anyway. A lot of traumatic things have happened to you in a short time.”

Link tapped his finger firmly on _yes_. She didn’t even know the half of it yet.

“I’ll let you get some rest now,” Jen said. “You’ll need to give a statement to the police soon, but you can take a few days to heal up first.” She started packing her things back into her bag. Link closed the laptop and held it out to her. She shook her head. “No, that’s for you to keep. Courtesy of your dad.”

Link rolled his eyes. Jen laughed. “Yeah, that’s kind of how I feel about him, and I’ve only known him a day. Rest up, okay? I’ll be back tomorrow.” Link waved goodbye as she left.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

With his new laptop and the WiFi password, Link did some research about Stockholm Syndrome. There were three main factors that could lead to someone possibly developing Stockholm Syndrome, and four signs that someone had developed it. He went through them to see if he qualified.

The three factors were the passage of time, continual contact, and kindness without abuse. Well, he’d spent three weeks sharing a tiny room with Rhett, who pretty much didn’t do anything that wasn’t kind.

The four signs were positive feelings towards the captor (guilty), no previous relationship (true), belief in shared values with the captor (guilty), unwillingness to cooperate with authorities (guilty per Jen, although Link wasn’t so sure he agreed).

Link grimaced. This might be a problem. He truly didn’t believe his feelings towards Rhett were the result of a survival instinct in a psychologically intense situation, but they might very well be. Jen was right. He needed to see a therapist. If nothing else, maybe he’d be able to quit having nightmares every night.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Amanda came back the next morning, which surprised Link. He’d assumed his dad would have returned to New York as quickly as possible. 

“Oh, he left yesterday afternoon,” she told Link with a wave of her hand. “You know how he hates to miss work. I’m going to stay until you’re released from the hospital. Someone’s gotta drive you back to LA.”

Oh, right. He was still in Oakland. It was a little hard to remember that when he hadn’t actually _seen_ any of Oakland. Link typed on his laptop.

_I’m surprised he agreed to that_

Amanda sighed and dropped into the bedside chair. “He doesn’t hate you, Link.”

_He might not hate me but he’s certainly never bothered to make me a priority, so you’ll have to forgive me if it takes some getting used to_

“It’s fine,” she said. “I’m certainly not mad about it! I’ve never been to California before. It’s a nice change of pace.”

_So what’s on your agenda today? Personally I’m about to get a camera down the throat to see how much the swelling’s gone down. You’re welcome to stay_

Amanda grimaced. “That sounds kind of gross but I was actually hoping to get an estimate of when you might be released, so I guess I’ll stay.”

The camera actually ended up being a flexible cable that went up through Link’s nose and down the back of his throat. It was uncomfortable and undignified, but not painful. Dr. Washington pointed to things on the video monitor as he moved the scope around.

“Okay, so here are your vocal cords, and _here_ you can see where the injury is.” Link had to take his word for it, because his head was tilted back and he didn’t have his glasses, but Amanda made a fascinated _Ah!_ “The swelling’s gone down dramatically, so tomorrow we’ll start weaning you off the trach.” 

“So when do you think he’ll be able to leave?” Amanda asked as Dr. Washington pulled the scope out, making Link gag.

“If everything goes well, probably the day after tomorrow. You’d like that, right?” he asked Link, who gave him a thumbs up. He was extremely ready to leave the hospital.

“You’ll have to follow up with an ENT and speech therapist in LA, and I’d suggest a therapist who specializes in trauma as well,” Dr. Washington said. He went over a few other things Link would have to do while he was discharged, but it went in one ear and out the other.

After he left, Link looked at Amanda.

_Did you catch all that?_

“Most of it,” she said. “You sure you don’t want an assistant? At least for a while.”

Link considered it as he tapped his fingers on the edge of the laptop. It was going to be at least a month before he’d be allowed to talk again, which was very inconvenient. And, he suddenly realized, he was terrified to leave the hospital. There were security guards, an approved visitor list, and a locked ward to protect him here. Amanda said that his house was getting a robust security system installed, but he’d have to leave sometimes, and he wasn’t sure he could do it alone.

_I don’t want an assistant but I think you’re right that I need one_

He stared at the blinking cursor for a few moments, and then resumed typing.

_I’m scared_

Amanda nodded. “I’ll find you some good candidates, okay? And then when you’re home, we can interview them.”

_Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t helping me. I can’t do this alone_

“My pleasure.”


	21. Chapter 21

“You need to get up and move around,” Sunshine said. “We don’t want blood clots forming in your legs, so I want you to walk a couple laps around the ward. It’s a big circle, you can’t get lost.”

Link nodded. He was finally free of the neck brace. Dr. Washington had capped his trach, and Link could breathe normally again. If he continued to do well, Dr. Washington would close the trach, and Link could do home.

He climbed out of bed and unplugged his IV pump from the wall. Between the liquid diet and the IV, he had to pee every forty five minutes, and every time, he had to unplug the IV pump. It got old very quickly. Once the trach was closed and he could eat solid food, Link could get rid of the IV, but until then he had to drag it around with him

Amanda brought him some underwear and sweatpants, which reminded him of the clothes Rhett brought him and brought tears to his eyes. Link’s current outfit consisted of the sweatpants, a yellow hospital gown, and some hospital supplied nonskid socks.

He grabbed the IV pole and pulled it along with him. The ward was busy. The nurses’ station was a hive of activity. Link watched for a moment. It was impressive how many things they managed to balance at once.

A lot of the other patients had their doors open. Link occasionally caught a glimpse of one of them, but they were usually hidden behind a curtain. Some rooms were full of flowers and balloons, and some were bare (like his).

He could see their televisions, though. Everyone was watching something different. A daytime show with a cooking demonstration, The Price Is Right, cartoons, a news channel. 

Link paused there. It was his dad’s news channel. He couldn’t hear the audio, but one of the anchors, an artificially pretty blonde woman, was speaking with a serious expression on her face. A graphic popped up beside her.

It was a picture of Link. He recognized it as the photo from his work ID. Underneath, a bold caption read KIDNAPPED.

His blood ran cold and he crumpled to the ground. The IV was pulled from his arm and he started bleeding, but Link didn’t notice. He covered his face with his hands and cried. At least he could do that, now that his throat worked.

His dad had betrayed him, _again_. Link had expected it, knew it was going to happen, but he hadn’t realized how much it would hurt.

A nurse came out of one of the other patients’ rooms and saw him lying on the floor, bleeding from his IV site. She called out to another nurse, and they managed to get him back to his room. One of them bandaged up his arm while the other tried to figure out what was wrong. It took him a long time to calm down enough that he could articulate it.

Amanda arrived soon after, and Dr. Washington quickly joined them. “If you’re able to cry, your airway must be doing pretty well,” he said with a wry grin. “If you don’t have any problems overnight, I can remove the trach tomorrow.”

That was the only good news Link had all day. He typed a furious rant at Amanda, even though he knew none of it was her fault, and she had no control over his father.

_I don’t want his money anymore. He’s PROFITING off me! That’s all I am to him, a story_

“Link, _please_. Please just wait until we get you home tomorrow,” Amanda begged. “We’ll figure it out, okay? Don’t make any rash decisions right now.”

He closed his eyes. Tears threatened to fall again. Dr. Washington said he should try to avoid crying, so as not to stress his vocal cords, but it was impossible.

_Please just leave me alone_

“Sure,” Amanda said softly. “I’ll be back to drive you home tomorrow.” She slipped out of the room, and Link covered his face and cried again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Link looked at his neck in the mirror. He didn’t even notice the scar on his cheekbone anymore. The tracheotomy wound at the base of his throat was small and straight and closed with four small sutures. If he wore a collared shirt, it would be completely covered.

The other wound was a different story. It started higher on one side, crossed diagonally over his Adam’s apple, and trailed off lower on the other side. Dr. Washington told him it required over a hundred sutures, inside and outside, to close. 

“Okay, everything’s all set. You ready to go?” Amanda asked from behind him. Link shrugged. He didn’t want to be in the hospital, but as long as he was, he was safe from the media and the public. Leaving the hospital would mean admitting that his life as he lived it before was really and truly gone.

“I got you something from the gift shop,” she said, and pulled a folded cloth from her bag and handed it to Link. He unfolded it and shook it out. It was a gauzy cotton scarf, navy blue with a pattern of cream triangles and a cream tassel at each corner.. “I thought you might like to…” Amanda touched her throat.

“Oh.” Link was allowed to speak a little, but he was going to have to type his statement tomorrow when he and Jen spoke with the police detectives. He looked at the scarf uncertainly and held it out to Amanda. “Can you…?”

“Sure.” She folded it in half to make a triangle and wrapped it around Link’s neck so that all four tassels hung on his chest. “How’s that?”

Link looked in the mirror again. He never would have worn anything like it in his previous life, but he actually kind of liked it, so he gave Amanda a thumbs up.

“Great!” she said. “Let’s get you home.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_When we get home can you call my friend Alex so he can bring Jade back? I don’t have his number any more. I don’t even know if he knows I’m safe_

Amanda looked up from the note. They were at a rest stop about an hour and a half from Link’s house. “Jade?”

“My dog,” Link said.

“Sure. I’ll find his number and give him a call.” Link didn’t ask how she’d find his number. Amanda was aggressively competent and efficient. Anything his dad needed, she would find a way to get it. A phone number was small potatoes.

Link’s house felt foreign when he entered. The air was stale and stuffy and his few houseplants were dry and shriveled. He crunched a leaf between his fingers and watched the shreds drift to the floorboards.

“Are you glad to be home?” Amanda asked as she brought in her suitcase. “Or is it just weird?” 

“Weird,” Link answered firmly. It would probably be better once everything was aired out and Jade was back. It was too quiet without her. “I’m gonna go shower.” Amanda gave him a thumbs up.

Link found his shower with its ugly glass block surround immensely comforting after three weeks of bathing with lukewarm water from a hose and nearly a week of the hospital shower. He had his own soap and his own shampoo and stood under the stream until all the hot water was gone, willing it to wash away the experiences of the past month.

Shaving his face, brushing his hair, and dressing in his own clothes (gray sweats, a graphic tee, a flannel shirt) made Link feel marginally better. He threw the clothes Amanda got for him to wear home from the hospital in his laundry basket and went back out into the main part of the house.

“I talked to your friend Alex,” Amanda said. She was going through Link’s fridge. “He’s gonna bring your dog by in about half an hour.” She opened a little carton of half and half, sniffed it, gagged, and threw it in the trash.

Link’s face split into a grin. It was the first time he’d truly smiled since his last morning in captivity. “Thank you.”

“I’m gonna go to the store while he’s over here, so write down anything that you want.” Amanda pulled out a yogurt cup, looked at the expiration date, shook her head, and tossed it. “Ugh.”

Link scrounged up a pen and a junk mail envelope to make a shopping list. His throat was still very tender, so everything on the list was soft and easy to swallow. He looked up at Amanda, who was now wiping down the shelves in his fridge.

“My dad doesn’t deserve you,” he said. She turned away from the fridge and put her rag on the counter with a sigh.

“He doesn’t deserve _you_ ,” Amanda said. “Charles can be an ass, but he and I work extremely well together. And I don’t agree with the way he’s treated you, but it was never my place to say anything, you know?”

Link nodded. Walls and boundaries.

“But now he’s made you my responsibility, at least for a while, so I _can_ say something. I had a really big discussion with him last night. I know you don’t want a relationship with him, and I don’t think he really wants a relationship with you, either, but you should take his money.” She picked the rag up and turned back to the fridge. “At least until you get back to work.” Link’s job had him on indefinite unpaid leave.

His father’s main problem-solving strategy was always to throw money at issues until they went away. It had always pissed Link off, but he knew Amanda was right about the money. “Okay,” Link said.

“For what it’s worth, even if he isn’t proud of you, I am.” Amanda’s voice was muffled by the fridge door. Link was glad she couldn’t see the blush that spread over his cheeks. He didn’t feel like he had anything to be proud of, but it was nice to hear her say it.

The doorbell rang. Amanda popped her head out of the fridge. “Bet that’s your friend.” Link picked up his phone. His fancy new security system had a live feed of several cameras on the outside of the house. The front door feed showed a stocky blond guy holding a little black and brown dog. 

“Alex!” Link dropped his phone on the table and scrambled to the door. He threw it open with a grin on his face.

“Hey, man!” Alex was grinning too. As soon as Jade saw Link, she began to wiggle and whine in Alex’s arms, so he held her out to Link.

“Oh my goodness,” Link whispered. Jade licked his face and wagged her tail so hard her entire body wagged with it. He sat on the floor, and then lay down so she could bounce around him, barking happily. Alex and Amanda watched in amusement.

“I should have recorded this,” Alex said. “It’s fucking adorable.”

Amanda nodded. “It really is. I’m off to the store. You boys behave yourselves while I’m gone.”

Alex sat on the floor next to Link and watched his reunion with Jade with a big grin on his face. Link looked up at him. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“No problem! We loved having her. My girlfriend wants to get a dog n-- holy shit!” Alex’s eyes widened in shock. He’d caught sight of Link’s neck.

Link’s hands shot up to cover his sutures. He looked around frantically for his scarf. It was draped over the back of the couch. He got up and grabbed it and wrapped it haphazardly around his neck. “Sorry.”

“No, dude, don’t be sorry. It’s just, just… I’m really glad to have you back, man,” Alex got up and pulled Link into a hug and thumped him on the back. Link flinched and pulled away. Alex looked at him, alarmed and guilty.

“I…” Link grabbed his laptop. This was going to take more than a few words.

_A lot of really bad things happened to me and I don’t know how to deal with it. I don’t know what’s going to be a trigger, I don’t know what to avoid. I’m not ready to talk about it yet._

“Yeah…” Alex said when he finished reading. Link felt something change in their relationship then, like a crack that would only grow wider and deeper. Things would never be the same between them. Just another thing his kidnapping took away.

_Right now i just want to watch something low stakes and not think_

“We can do that for sure,” Alex agreed. He picked up the remote. “How do you feel about _Wall-E_? I haven’t seen that in ages.” Link gave him a thumbs up.


	22. Chapter 22

The next morning, Link’s lawyer Jen picked him up and drove him to the police station so he could finally give his statement to the police.

It took hours. The meeting room was hot. Jen took off her blazer. Underneath, she was wearing a sleeveless blouse. Link was impressed at how muscular she was, and had a sudden vision of her choking out Willen. It made him smile to himself.

When the subject of the throat cutting came up, Link pulled down his scarf so Jen and the detectives could see it. “Jesus _fuck_ ,” muttered one of the detectives.

“Yep,” Link said. He pulled the scarf back up. That about covered it.

“You did good,” Jen said as she drove him home. “I’ll be in touch, okay?” Link nodded.

He was exhausted. All he wanted to do was sleep for the rest of the afternoon, but he and Amanda had three candidates to interview for his assistant position. Link had tried to convince Amanda to stay and be _his_ assistant, but she declined. “My husband and my kids would probably like me to come home sometime soon,” she said. Link understood, but he was still disappointed.

The interviews went well enough, Link supposed. Amanda did most of the work. In the end, they decided on a guy named Blake who was going to school for hotel management (Link hadn’t known that was a thing). He’d take Link to his appointments, run errands, and basically do everything that Amanda was doing, although he wouldn’t stay in Link’s guestroom like she did.

Link then went to bed and passed out at once.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He woke up at 2am. Jade was on the pillow next to him, licking and pawing at his face and whining.

“Stoppit,” Link mumbled and pushed her away. He wasn’t upset with her, though. He’d been having the trunk dream again. This time, Rhett was outside, trying to pry the trunk open with the crowbar, but he couldn’t get in.

Link couldn’t fall back asleep. He tossed and turned until 3:30 before getting up and bringing his laptop to bed. He opened a blank Word document.

_Dear Rhett,_

_It feels like forever since I’ve seen you, even though it’s been less than a week._

_I’m home and safe and as well as I can be, I guess. I’m never going to be like I was before, but I can get better. It’s just going to take a while._

_My dog Jade is back, too, and that helps a lot. My dad is paying for everything. I hired a guy to help take care of things like appointments and bills. I feel like an invalid (I am an invalid)._

_I think about you all the time. There are so many things I never got to say to you. I never got to thank you, I never got to say goodbye, I never got to tell you how much you mean to me._

_I never got to tell you that I love you._

_Because I do, Rhett. I love you, and I’m pretty sure you love me too. I saw how you looked at me, I felt how you touched me. You tore down a wall to rescue me. You’re going to PRISON because you wanted me to be safe._

_And I’m not angry at you for not making me leave sooner. We both know it was my choice, and we both know I wanted to wait so I could spend more time with you. And when that turned out to have been a mistake, you saved me._

_I hope that you are as safe and happy as you can be, wherever you are. It’s so unfair that someone as good hearted as you is in this situation. I asked my lawyer not to go after you, but I know it’s not really up to us._

_All I can do now is hope that my wish comes true, that one day we’ll both be home and safe and see each other again. I can’t wait._

_Love,_

_Link_

He stared at the document for a while and then closed it without saving. Link shut the laptop and put it on his bedside table. He fell asleep easily, and didn’t dream.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“So what’s the verdict?” Blake asked when Link reentered the waiting room. He closed his textbook and stuck it back in his backpack.

“Scar tissue on the vocal cords, just like the speech therapist thought,” Link said. It had been two months since his neck injury. He sounded like he had severe laryngitis and wasn’t improving, so the speech therapist sent him back to the ENT to get scoped again. “They can revise it with a laser, but I’m going to wait until after the preliminary trial because I’ll have to be on vocal rest again.”

“Cool.” Blake shrugged on his backpack. “You wanna go anywhere on the way home?”

Link shook his head. “No thanks.” Blake was okay, but he was no Amanda. He was prompt, perfectly competent, a genuinely nice guy, and fantastic at getting the press to leave Link alone while they were out. Link just didn’t connect with him on an emotional level at all.

He was desperately, desperately lonely. Other than going to appointments (doctor, lawyer, therapists), Link rarely left his house. There were too many _what if_ scenarios running through his brain to let him relax enough to do it, and the media was always lurking. His psychologist told him that agoraphobia was relatively common after a period of captivity, and that eventually he’d overcome it, but for now, he was almost completely isolated.

Alex drifted away, just as Link had feared he would. They’d only tried to hang out once after Alex brought Jade back. It was awkward and uncomfortable for both of them. He didn’t blame Alex, though. He barely recognized himself these days.

“You’re tougher than you look,” Rhett told him, but the person Link saw in the mirror was so weak that even ‘tougher’ wasn’t saying much. He was pale, with dark circles under his eyes, two healing red scars across his throat, a paler scar on his cheekbone, and hair that badly needed cutting. He didn’t smile much, rarely laughed, was always exhausted, and barely ate.

Link felt like a ghost of himself.

Rhett would have understood, but he wasn’t allowed to contact Rhett any more than Rhett was allowed to contact him. At least he knew that Rhett had a good lawyer. Jen had been very impressed when she learned who was representing him. It made Link feel just a tiny bit better to know that Rhett had a very good defense attorney looking out for him.

Amanda emailed every few days. Link found he didn’t have much to say to her now that she was back in New York with his dad (upon reflection, he hadn’t had much to say to her while she was in LA, either, and not because he was unable to talk). He dutifully updated her on his medical and legal status, and assumed she was relaying the information to his dad. He was the one paying for it, after all.

Lots of other people emailed Link, too. One of Blake’s tasks was to go through Link’s inbox and send what he called ‘the fuck off form’ (it really a letter that Jen had written stating that Link was not speaking with the media at this time) to journalists requesting interviews, forward bills to Amanda to pay, and send anything personal to Link’s new, secret email.

At Link’s request, Amanda had written a fill-in-the-blanks reply (the ‘thank you form’) that he could send to people who were wishing him well, because he just didn’t have the emotional fortitude to write a new response each time. Link sent it to more people than he strictly should have, but he didn’t really care if anyone was offended by getting a minimal response. That was their problem.

There were a few people that he did actually begin corresponding with, mostly old friends that he’d lost touch with over the years. In particular, Link was becoming close with a friend from college, Rodrigo. It wasn’t really fair to call him just a friend, though. There had been a _lot_ of mutual attraction between them back then, but they’d never ended up as a couple for various reasons.

Link looked at the clock. It was late enough that Rodrigo should be home by now. He pulled out his phone and hit the speed dial for Rodrigo, a video call. It rang a couple times and then he answered.

“Hey!” he greeted Link cheerfully. Rodrigo had short dark hair, brown eyes, and a tidy goatee. He worked as a product engineer, designing electronic innards for children’s toys that lit up, moved, and made noise. “How was your appointment? Did they find anything?”

“Yeah. They scoped me again.” Here Link made a face. He hated the laryngoscope. The ENT in LA used a different kind than the flexible through-the-nose scope that Dr. Washington had used in Oakland. This one was a curved metal blade that squished down Link’s tongue. “There’s a bunch of scar tissue. They can remove most of it with a laser, but I have to wait until after the preliminary trial because I’m gonna be on vocal rest. Again.” He hated vocal rest more than he hated the scope. At least the scope was over quickly.

“That really sucks, Link.”

“And my voice is probably still going to be kinda messed up.” Link sighed.

“Do you know when the preliminary trial’s going to be?” Rodrigo asked.

Link shrugged. “A month? A month and a half? Soon enough that I’d probably still be on vocal rest even if I had surgery right away. Jen’s not sure. It’s really complicated because it’s going to be a joint trial.”

“You’re gonna do great,” Rodrigo said. “I just know it.”

“I’m fucking terrified,” Link admitted. “When I see them again… I don’t know how I’m gonna react.”

“They can’t hurt you anymore, Link.”

“I do wanna see Rhett, though. Even if I can’t really talk to him, I want him to see that I’m alive and kicking.” Link thought about Rhett all the time. He felt horribly guilty about Rhett’s situation. It was almost like a form of survivor guilt.

Rodrigo frowned at the mention of Rhett. He’d never explicitly said it, but Link knew he was of the opinion that Link’s feelings for Rhett were the result of Stockholm Syndrome or traumatic bonding or something. Link still wasn’t sure himself.

He changed the subject. Time to talk about something unrelated to the kidnapping. “How’s the robot puppy coming? Did your dumbass coworker fix his mistakes?”

Rodrigo heaved a huge sigh. “Ugh, no.” Link had heard his rant about his stupid coworker before, but it was nice to have a conversation that wasn’t about him and his issues. He was incredibly grateful to Rodrigo for providing that.

And, as it turned out, Link still had kind of a crush on him.


	23. Chapter 23

“I don’t wanna do this,” Link mumbled. It was the day of the preliminary trial, and he and Jen were waiting for the defendants to be brought in. He had on a blazer and a sweater with a high neck that covered his scars. Blake found a barber who was willing to come to Link’s house and cut his hair there, so he looked pretty sharp.

He was also on a fairly high dose of Valium. It helped a lot.

“Bad news, bud,” Jen said. “You gotta.”

“I know.” The door to the courtroom opened. Link swallowed hard. There they were, Demetrius, Willen, Portelli, and Rhett, all in orange jumpsuits and shackles.

 _Rhett_. There he was, in the flesh. He looked nervous and uncertain, his jumpsuit was a little too small, and his hair and beard were even wilder than before. Link thought he looked wonderful.

It wasn’t as hard as he thought it was going to be, seeing the others. They ignored him, and he ignored them in turn. Rodrigo was right. They couldn’t hurt him anymore.

Giving his testimony, however, was extremely difficult. Link had to relive and go into detail about a number of things he would rather forget--the trunk, the pictures, getting his throat cut. 

But it was worth it, because it gave him a chance to communicate with Rhett. Link testified that while it was true that Rhett was involved in the kidnapping, he did everything in his power to keep him safe, and his companionship made everything bearable for Link. 

Link looked Rhett right in the eyes and gave him a little smile. Rhett smiled back. “I’ll never be able to thank him enough,” he concluded. He hoped that Rhett could read between the lines and see his true meaning: _You saved me, I’ll never forget your kindness, I’m going to do everything I can to help you now, because I owe you big time._

He didn’t add _I love you_ , though, even though he did. Seeing Rhett in the jumpsuit and shackles really drove it home that their lives were headed in completely different directions. Link was realistic enough to recognize futility when he saw it. 

He was going to have to let Rhett go.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Sorry I didn’t call last night,” Link said. “I passed out right after the trial and slept for about sixteen hours straight.”

“It’s cool,” Rodrigo said. He held a glass of whiskey. “How _was_ the trial?”

“It sucked as much as I thought it would, but in different ways, if that makes sense,” Link replied. “Giving testimony and answering questions was horrible. I’ve been trying to forget a lot of that stuff, and that just brought it all back.”

Rodrigo took a sip of his drink. “It’s only been three months, Link. You’ll get there.”

“I know. Still hard,” Link said. “Seeing the others wasn’t as bad as I thought. We all just ignored each other. But Rhett… man, he just broke my heart. He doesn’t deserve this.”

“He _was_ involved,” Rodrigo said cautiously. He was of the opinion that Rhett should have broken Link out sooner. Link, obviously, felt differently. It was a bit of a sore subject.

“Yes, I’m aware. I was there when it happened.” Link sighed. “I’ve been talking to my therapist about him a lot. She doesn’t believe Stockholm Syndrome is a real thing. She said it was, uh…” Link tried to remember what she said. “It oversimplifies things? And it’s a set narrative that doesn’t account for individual experiences. Like, Rhett wasn’t there by choice.”

“I guess.” Rodrigo took another sip of his whiskey. He looked doubtful

“I’m trying to let him go,” Link said. “There’s so much I want to say to him, but he’s gone. So I just have to move on.”

“That’s probably smart.” Rodrigo changed the subject, and they chatted about inconsequential things for a while.

“Do you want to come visit sometime?” Link blurted when the conversation paused. Where had _that_ come from? He shook his head a little to clear it. 

Rodrigo’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh, sure.” He only lived about forty five minutes away. “Are you really okay with that?” Link had told him how hard disruptions in his routine were.”

“I…” Link paused and made a decision. “Yes,” he said firmly. Currently, everyone else in his life had some connection to the kidnapping. It would be good to have an unrelated party around.

And maybe, just maybe, it would distract him from Rhett.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Things didn’t get better for Link after that.

It became harder and harder for him to leave the house. Blake (and, increasingly, Rodrigo) would spend half an hour coaxing and cajoling him out to the truck. It got to the point where he would only leave when he absolutely _had_ to, which meant he only left the house for medical and legal appointments. Link bought clothes online, ordered groceries to be delivered, and sent Blake on errands. 

He wasn’t sure why he was so scared of leaving the house. It wasn’t a fear of repeat kidnapping. Link figured it was an attempt to try and control his environment. He still hadn’t figured out what all his triggers were, and he was terrified of having a meltdown in public. Link’s current therapy goal was to be able to attend the upcoming trial without having a panic attack at the courthouse. It was going to be a lot of work.

It also didn’t help that there were usually journalists lurking around waiting to ambush him. This was where Blake really shone--Link gave him free rein to chase them off however he wanted, and he did. Blake was always icily polite to the media. He never did anything as rude as telling them to fuck off, but they always backed off, wide-eyed, like they’d been threatened. “It’s good practice for dealing with dipshit guests when I get my own hotel,” he told Link.

The nightmares were an ongoing problem, as well. Every night, Link dreamed about his kidnapping. Usually, it was about being locked in the trunk, but sometimes getting his picture taken or getting his throat cut would make an appearance. Often, Rhett would be there, but unable to help. If Link was lucky, Jade would wake him up by licking and pawing at his face. If not, he’d wake up in the middle of the night, covered in sweat and breathing heavily. It was exhausting.

He had the second surgery on his throat, went through another horrible month of vocal rest, and several more months of speech therapy. When it was all done, his voice was still a little hoarse, a little scratchy, but much better than it had been.

Meanwhile, Jen kept working on his case. She was confident that Demetrius, Willen, and Portelli would all get significant sentences, as the ongoing investigation tied them to other violent crimes. Rhett, she wasn’t so sure about.

“If he didn’t look so good compared to the others, he’d be screwed,” she told Link. “And if the trial focused on computer fraud, he’s be _really_ screwed.”

“Why?” Link asked. It seemed wrong that being charged with computer fraud was more serious than being charged with kidnapping.

Jen shrugged. “He’s committed a _lot_ of fraud. Each instance could be charged separately, and computer crime laws are very open to interpretation. It just depends on how the judge is feeling. On the other hand, he was only involved in one kidnapping, and the fact that he turned himself and his associates in and is willing to testify against them helps him a lot. The jury’s probably going to love him.”

“Good,” Link said. He chewed his lip nervously. “Um, how long a sentence do you think he’ll get?”

“Rhett?” Jen looked up at the ceiling and thought for a moment. “I’d guess fifteen years, maybe twenty. Probably with possibility for parole, though.” 

“Wow.” That was longer than Link had expected. “And the others?”

“Oh, at _least_ twenty five, probably more,” she said with confidence. “No parole.”

It was good news and bad news. Portelli, Willen, and Demetrius would be behind bars for a long, long time. Rhett, on the other hand, would also be behind bars for a long time.

Link was grieving. He’d bonded with Rhett hard and fast, and lost him even more quickly. He mourned the loss of that relationship and what could have been. Link didn’t know if he’d ever be able to get over it. Once the trial was over, though, he planned on working through it with his therapist.

The only bright spots in his life were Jade and Rodrigo. Link always felt better when Jade was with him, and caring for her helped keep him in a routine. On his good days, he was able to go out into the backyard and sit on the patio with her. When he was unable to do that, Blake would take her for a walk.

The first time Rodrigo came over, Link was beside himself with anxiety. He wasn’t who he used to be, and he’d already lost Alex because of it. What would Rodrigo think of him now? Link certainly wasn’t the person he was in college nearly a decade and a half ago.

But as it turned out, it was that long period of absence that allowed their relationship to work. Rodrigo didn’t really know pre-kidnapping Link, so the Link he saw now was the only Link he knew.

“I brought you a present!” Rodrigo announced as he came in, holding a bag in each hand. “And dinner.” He brought dinner at least once a week.

“Oh, yeah?” Link smiled at him. He was in a good mood because he’d graduated from speech therapy earlier in the day. One less thing to worry about.

“Yeah.” He followed Link into the kitchen and put down the bags. One was a small gift bag with tissue paper sticking out the top, and the other was a plastic shopping bag full of food containers. Link opened the plastic bag. Vietnamese.

“Yesss,” he whispered, and then remembered that now he was off vocal rest he was allowed to talk as much as he wanted. “I mean, yes!”

Rodrigo laughed and pushed the other bag towards him. “Open it!”

Link picked it up. The bag weighed almost nothing. He pulled out this tissue and looked inside. More tissue. He frowned and pulled it out. This tissue was much softer, and didn’t crinkle. He took a closer look.

“Oh!” It was a big silk scarf, so light and airy that the smallest puff of wind could blow it away. It was printed with a colorful nebula surrounded by little stars. “Rodrigo, this is beautiful!”

“It’s the Crab Nebula. I thought you might like a little variety. You wear that one all the time,” Rodrigo nodded at Link’s neck. He was wearing the cream and navy tasseled scarf that Amanda got at the hospital gift shop. It was his go-to whenever he wasn’t wearing one of his increasing collection of high necked shirts.

Other than his doctors and the detectives, the only people who had seen Link’s scars were Amanda, Alex, and Jen. He always covered them up when Blake was around, and until right now, he’d covered up in front of Rodrigo as well. He wasn’t ashamed of them, really, but he didn’t want to advertise them, either.

Link took a deep breath and pulled off Amanda’s scarf. Rodrigo’s eyes widened in shock when he saw Link’s bare neck. “Holy shit,” he whispered. “Link, I had no idea…”

“I know, they’re bad,” Link said. He wanted to put his hand up to cover his neck, but he didn’t. “Why do you think I keep them covered?” He picked up the silk scarf and put it on the same way he wore Amanda’s scarf, with the triangle hanging down in the front and the ends wrapped around the back of his neck, but it wouldn’t stay. The silk was too slippery. “Um…”

“I think you have to tie a knot in it,” Rodrigo said. “Like this.” He stood in front of Link and reached around him to tie a double knot at the back of his neck.

Link’s heart pounded. He could smell Rodrigo’s sandalwood cologne and realized something. He really liked Rodrigo, and while he was in captivity, Link had sworn to himself that he would find someone to care about him. This was his chance.

“There, looks good.” Rodrigo withdrew his hands and went to step back.

Link’s hands shot out and grabbed his waist. “Wait.” He pulled Rodrigo back in and leaned forward to kiss him.

Rodrigo looked shocked for the second time that night. “Link, are you--”

“Shut up.” Link kissed him again, and this time Rodrigo kissed back.

The Vietnamese food went cold on the counter, abandoned.


	24. Chapter 24

_Dear Rhett,_

_I know it’s been a long time since I wrote to you. A lot has happened in the past six months. I had another surgery on my throat and my voice is a lot better. Maybe people will stop asking if I’m sick now. My lawyer has been working like crazy to get ready for the trial, and so have I. I’ve been doing a lot of intense therapy so I can get through it without having a panic attack every 15 minutes. Still probably gonna take a lot of valium though. I can’t wait for this to all be over._

_You could probably guess all that, though, so here’s something unexpected: I got married last week. When I got kidnapped, I realized that no one would miss me until I didn’t show up at work on Monday, and that made me realize that I didn’t want to be alone any longer._

_I know it seems sudden, but it isn’t really. His name is Rodrigo and I met him in college, so we were able to skip all that “getting to know you” stuff. He is absolutely the sweetest guy and he makes me so happy. I needed someone to help me get through all the bullshit I have to deal with, and he’s the one. I honestly don’t know where I’d be without him._

_We eloped at City Hall, just the two of us. It’s so hard for me to go out in public, but I was absolutely determined to do it, and I did. It was a big step forward for me. I also took the opportunity to change my name, so I’m just Lincoln Neal now. My dad can have Charles all to himself now. I never used it anyway._

_I hope this doesn’t upset you. I know we had something special (or at least, I felt it was something special. I hope you did, too), but it seems like fate is keeping us apart._

_I wish you all the best._

_Love,_

_Link_

_P.S. You have a special place in my heart and I’ll always love you no matter what, and my wish is still true._

Link stared at his laptop screen for a few minutes. It was past midnight. Rodrigo was already asleep in the bedroom. Unlike Link, he had to get up for work in the morning. Link knew he should have been in bed, too, but he couldn’t stop the thoughts whirling through his mind.

He closed the document without saving it, as he always did when he wrote a letter to Rhett, and shut the laptop. Link went into the bedroom, moved Jade out of his spot, and snuggled up close to his husband. He fell asleep quickly and didn’t dream.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Overall, Link thought, if someone told him he had to choose between spending three weeks locked in that room and three weeks attending his trial, he’d choose the room (as long as the throat cutting wasn’t included).

The entire experience was awful. Seeing Willen and Portelli, seeing the documentation photos Willen had taken of him, seeing pictures of the room… everything all came rushing back and it nearly broke him. He took Valium every day and went to therapy twice a week, but it barely helped. Link would not have been able to get through it if Rodrigo hadn’t been with him the entire time.

The only bright spot was seeing Rhett. His hair was wilder than ever, but his beard was neatly trimmed. Link thought it was a great look for him, and when Rhett turned to look at him, Link gave him a smile. He didn’t know if Rhett knew he was married, and he was worried about Rhett’s reaction. Rhett gave him a big grin, though, which put Link at ease. Warm affection blossomed in his chest.

Link looked at back Rodrigo, who frowned. He was of two minds about Rhett. On one hand, Rhett had saved Link’s life. On the other hand, if Rhett had broken Link out sooner, he wouldn’t have needed to be saved. As the trial went on, Link could tell that Rodrigo was leaning more towards the “Rhett could have prevented this” side of things.

Every night, when Rodrigo drove them home (he’d moved in with Link a few months before they got married), Link would go lie on the bed and sob. Rodrigo would sit with him and stroke his hair and tell him that everything was going to be okay until he’d cried himself out.

The only day they didn’t attend was the day that Link’s father was giving his testimony, because Jen was going to show the video of Link getting his throat cut. Link had no desire to go through that again.

The hardest day was the day Link gave his testimony. He sat in the witness box after being sworn in and looked back and forth at Rhett and Rodrigo. Rhett gave him a wink and Rodrigo gave him a thumbs up. Link took a deep breath. He could do this.

And he did it. Barely. 

Link wanted Portelli, Willen, and Demetrius to go down, and he wanted Rhett to get off lightly, so he did his best to reflect that in his testimony. It seemed like it was working. Rodrigo watched the jury while Link was speaking and said that they looked like they were sympathetic to Rhett.

Finally, everything was done. The jury deliberated for a day and a half. Willen, Demetrius, and Portelli were all given sentences between twenty and thirty five years to life without possibility of parole. Link breathed a sigh of relief. Jen was right. He didn’t have to worry about them anymore.

Rhett got five years, including the eleven months he’d already spent in jail waiting for the trial.

 _I could have waited four years_ , Link thought, and burst into tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if your boyfriend, who has been through an extremely traumatizing experience not even a year ago, says "let's get married," the correct answer is not "okay!". The correct answer is a long engagement.


	25. Chapter 25

_Dear Rhett,_

_It’s been six months since the trial ended and once again there have been a lot of changes in my life. I assume there have been a lot of changes for you, too, but I can’t even imagine what they’d be. I hope you’re doing well._

_Rodrigo and I moved to Minneapolis four months ago. Why Minneapolis, you ask? Because that’s where Rodrigo’s from, and we needed support from his family. I had a complete breakdown after the trial. All I could do was lie in bed and cry. I was so angry and brokenhearted. I didn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep. Rodrigo couldn’t stay with me all the time, and I don’t have an assistant anymore, so I sold my house and we moved in with his mother._

_The less said about the plane ride, the better. Even with Jade and Valium, it was the most nerve racking thing I ever did. I don’t think I’ll be doing that again._

_Rodrigo’s mom is wonderful. Her name is Lupe and she’s an amazing cook and treats me like a son. I barely remember my own mom, I was so little when she died, so having a mother figure is really wonderful for me. I love her._

_I got on disability and stopped taking my dad’s money. I’m still not able to work. Rodrigo says my job is to get better, and I think I am, a little. Yesterday I was able to walk Jade up and down the block. I had to stay in sight of Lupe’s house, though. It’s a good thing Jade is so little and chill. I don’t think I could take care of a more energetic dog._

_I still miss you. My lawyer is trying to get my cranes out of police evidence now that the trial is over. They’re really the only thing I have to remember you by. I need to have something tangible to remind me of the good parts._

_I still hope that one day we’ll be able to see each other, and maybe go on that float trip._

_Love,_

_Link_

Link looked at the letter and sighed. What was he even doing? He was living in Minneapolis, happily married, and still fixating on a guy he knew for three weeks a year and a half ago. This had to stop. Link deleted his letter and started over.

_Dear Rhett,_

_I can never thank you enough for your kindness. You saved me, in more ways than one, and I love you for it._

_I’ve said this before, but this time I mean it: I have to let you go. It’s for my own good. I have a new life now, and I need to move forward._

_I love you, I miss you, but this is goodbye._

_Love,_

_Link_

Link closed the document without saving it. He put the laptop on his bedside table, curled up under his blanket, and cried himself to sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Link had been skeptical about moving at first, but Rodrigo pointed out, correctly, that Link spent all his time inside anyway. What did it matter if it was in LA or Minneapolis? It was also true that moving away from LA would get rid of a lot of Link’s journalist issues.

It turned out to be a good move. Link absolutely hated the winter (“Why is it snowing? It’s _October_!”) but the extra love and support he got from his mother in law more than made up for that. Lupe was short and plump and dyed her hair an unnatural burgundy. She called Link _mijo_ and was scandalized when she found out he didn’t know how to cook.

“I was pretty much raised by nannies, Mama,” he told her. “I didn’t learn how to do laundry until I went to college.” 

“Your dad failed you in a lot of ways, huh?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Lupe was making sourdough bread and Link was ‘helping’, which mostly meant sitting around and watching her. He was pretty good at things like pasta sauces and casseroles by now (although Lupe called a casserole a _hotdish)_ , but baking so far had escaped him. 

The doorbell rang. Link looked at his phone (Rodrigo had installed a doorbell camera when they moved in). He saw a delivery person walking back to their truck. “It’s a package. I’ll get it.”

Link was fine with being outside of Lupe’s house. The only unpleasant thing that had ever happened was that one of the neighbors recognized him from the news while he was walking Jade. Link had been experimenting with not covering his throat, but abandoned the idea after that. It was better to hide the scars.

He carried it into the kitchen. It was addressed to him, which wasn’t unusual. He bought a lot of things online. This wasn’t from Amazon, though. It was from his lawyer, Jen.

“Oh, I know what this is!” Link exclaimed. He got a pair of scissors out of the junk drawer and carefully slit the tape. “Jen finally got my cranes out of police evidence.”

The cranes were not in good shape. They were crushed and tangled in a large plastic bag. Lupe put the lump of dough in a bowl and covered it before helping Link take them out of the bag and lay them out on the table.

“They’re too knotted up, mijo,” she said. “You’re going to have to cut the thread and restring them.”

“You’re right.” Link fetched another pair of scissors and they sat there, carefully snipping threads to free the cranes. Some of them brought back very specific memories for Link. He held up one to show Lupe. “This is the first one I made.” It was the scribbled crossword puzzle crane.

Link didn’t tell Lupe about all the memories the cranes brought back, because most of them weren’t very good, but there were enough that they were still sitting there talking when Rodrigo got home. “Smells good, Mama,” he said as he entered the kitchen, coat draped over his arm. “What’s all this stuff?”

“My cranes!” Link grinned at him. “Jen finally got them out of evidence.” He balanced one on his palm and held it out to Rodrigo, who frowned.

“You seriously still want those? I thought you were joking.”

Link furrowed his brow. “Why would I joke about that?” He hadn’t mentioned them in a while, but that was only because Jen hadn’t been making any progress.

“I…” Rodrigo glanced at his mother, who looked at him expectantly. “I’m gonna change out of my work clothes.” Link slipped out of his chair and followed.

“Why would I be joking?” he asked as he closed the bedroom door behind him. “You _know_ how much the cranes meant to me.”

“ _Meant_ ,” Rodrigo corrected as he unbuttoned his dress shirt. “It’s been a year and a half, Link! I thought you wanted to leave all that behind.”

“I _do_ want to leave it all behind,” Link said. “But I can’t.” He traced his finger over the scar on his throat. Rodrigo never touched it, and Link didn’t want him to. “So if I can’t leave it behind, I at least want to bring the best part with me, you know? I was thinking about hanging them up but they’re such a mess…”

“Hanging them up?” Rodrigo was incredulous. “Link, no.”

“What do you mean, ‘no’? You don’t get to just unilaterally shoot it down like that!”

“Well, _you_ don’t get to unilaterally decide to hang them up!” Rodrigo retorted. He angrily pulled on a hoodie. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don’t want a reminder of my husband’s fucking _attempted murder_ hanging up on the wall?”

“You don’t understa--!” Link’s voice gave out, as it often did when he yelled. It just made him angrier. He cleared his throat and tried again. “You don’t understand! I _need_ them! Something that’s tangible and real, something that’s not just a memory…”

“I don’t want it in my house, okay?”

“ _Your_ house?” Link scoffed. “Pretty sure this is Lupe’s house.”

“Oh, don’t you _dare_ bring her into this!”

Things just got worse after that. The fight ended with Rodrigo throwing some clothes in a bag and slamming the door on his way out. Link sat on the bed, wide-eyed and stunned. He and Rodrigo had had their disagreements, sure, but never a fight like that. Link was honestly astonished that he hadn’t burst into tears.

There was a knock on the door about fifteen minutes later. “Link?” It was Lupe. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” She sat next to him on the bed. Link sighed. “I… what the hell just happened? Is it that bad that I want to keep my cranes?”

Oh, mijo.” Lupe hugged him. “They don’t mean the same to him as they do to you.”

“Yeah, but…” Link looked down at his knees and trailed off. “I guess I’ll talk to my therapist about it. Do you know where Rodrigo went?” 

“He said he was going to Patrick’s.” Patrick was Rodrigo’s best work friend. Link liked him, too. “Why don’t you come have some dinner?” Lupe asked.

“Okay.” Link let her lead him back to the kitchen, even though he didn’t have much of an appetite.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rodrigo came back after work the next day. He and Link apologized to each other, and came up with a temporary compromise: Link could keep the cranes, but not display them on the wall. Instead, he put all the now loose cranes back in the box and hid it back in the closet. He wasn’t really satisfied with it, but it worked for the moment.

Life went on. They moved out of Lupe’s house and into a condo that was close enough that Link could walk to Lupe’s house, once he got more confident. He didn’t think it would take too long. Every day he felt better.

There was a little cafe three blocks away from the condo. Link and Rodrigo walked to it twice a week for several weeks in a row before Link said he was ready to try it by himself.

“You sure?” Rodrigo asked.

“I’m sure that I don’t want to spend the rest of my life trapped inside,” Link said. “I mean, I don’t think I’m ever going to totally get over it, you know? But I’m pretty sure I can manage to do this. And even if I can’t, what’s the worst case scenario? I turn around and come back? I have a panic attack and I have to call you to come get me?”

“It’s just… I don’t want you to get hurt again,” Rodrigo said.

“Well, I appreciate that,” Link replied, mildly exasperated. “But I have to start taking risks sometime! It’s been almost two years.”

“Link--”

“Nope! I’m going right now.” Link called Jade over and clipped on her leash. “I’m gonna go sit on the patio and eat a reuben and then I’m gonna come home. You’ll be so proud of me you’re not gonna know what to do.” He leaned over and kiss Rodrigo’s disapproving cheek and walked out the door.

Link did exactly what he said he would do. Admittedly, on the walk to the cafe, his stomach was knotted with anxiety, but by the time he was on the sunny patio with a reuben in front of him and Jade curled up by his feet, he felt pretty good.

He thought about Rodrigo while he ate. Rodrigo had been a lifeline for him before, during, and after the trial, but things seemed to be changing now. At first, Rodrigo urged Link to get better and encouraged him in his efforts. Now, though, as they settled into domestic life and Link became more independent, Rodrigo seemed like he didn’t want to progress any more.

Link had discussed it a little with his therapist. She’d introduced him to the concept of love languages. Rodrigo’s was obviously Acts of Service--he wanted to take care of Link, and Link had needed a _lot_ of care. 

But things were changing. It was something he’d have to discuss with Rodrigo eventually, but for now, Link wanted to focus on himself.

He paid for his meal and got a cookie to take back to Rodrigo. The walk home was much easier. Link felt good. Things were getting better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anybody has suggestions of what else I should tag on this story, either leave a comment or send me a message on tumblr. I never know what to tag things as.


	26. Chapter 26

Things did not get better.

To be sure, _Link_ kept getting better. He went to the cafe by himself a few times a week, usually with Jade, but eventually he was able to go without her. Whenever he walked to Lupe’s house, though, Link always took Jade because Lupe loved her so much.

Rodrigo was the one who wasn’t getting better. Link couldn’t figure out what Rodrigo was expecting from him. He scolded Link for hiding in the bedroom when he had his work friends over to watch football (even though Link made a point to come out and socialize for a little while, even though it was extremely difficult for him), but also discouraged Link from becoming more independent. To Link, it seemed like Rodrigo wanted him to progress socially instead, and that just wasn’t going to happen. 

They argued and fought constantly. It was exhausting.

One night, after a particularly bad argument about whether or not Link should begin driving again (Rodrigo didn’t think he was ready and Link thought he had to start sometime), he slammed the bedroom door behind him and locked it. The box of paper cranes was tucked under a pile of shoes in the farthest back corner of Link’s side of the walk-in closet. He dug it out and sat on the carpeted floor next to the bed.

“What are we even _doing_?” Link mumbled to himself. He opened the box and poured the cranes out into a pile. One by one he picked them up and put them back into the box. It was a little ritual he’d made up. By the time all the cranes were boxed back up, he’d be calm enough to move on.

Newspaper, newspaper, advertising flier… Link let his mind wander as he went through the cranes. Envelope, newspaper, newspaper, newspaper, McDonalds bag, brown paper… Link peered at the brown paper crane and flipped it over. It wasn’t entirely brown. There was a dark spot of grease and a little red printing.

It was the Arby’s bag crane he’d made with Rhett.

“Oh, Rhett.” Link wiped tears off his cheeks and leaned back against the side of the bed with his legs stretched out before him. It had been over two years since he’d seen Rhett or heard any news of him. Link knew which prison he was in and his approximate release date if he served his entire sentence, but that was all.

He still missed Rhett so much. Rhett still featured in his dreams regularly, although his nightmares were now fewer and farther between. Link rubbed the crane between his fingers and thought about the last day of the trial, when he’d learned Rhett would be locked away for four years. _I could have waited four years_.

But he hadn’t waited. He’d made an impulsive decision and proposed to Rodrigo, who had actually accepted for some reason. It seemed like that had probably been a bad choice on both their parts.

Link set the Arby’s crane off to the side and resumed dropping cranes into the box one by one. Why _had_ he proposed, anyway? Yes, Rodrigo was one of the few people who treated him like a real person instead of a project or a story at the beginning, and Link was very into him, but that didn’t mean they had to get _married_.

He knew the real reason, of course. Link loved Rhett, and Jen had confidently told him that Rhett would get a sentence of at least fifteen years. That was a long time, and if Link were married, he’d have an excuse for not waiting for Rhett.

But as it turned out, he only had to wait for four years. Two, now. That wasn’t much time at all. Link thought about what he was going to do when Rhett was released. Wait for Rhett to contact him? That seemed unlikely. Rhett knew he was married and would probably assume he’d moved on.

Link had to talk to him, though, at least to say thank you. He knew Rodrigo wouldn’t like that. “Well, it’s not his freakin’ choice,” Link whispered to himself. All but one of the cranes were back in the box now. Link folded the flaps and put it back in the closet with his shoes.

He sat on the bed with the brown Arby’s crane and thought. Could he get a message to Rhett somehow? He wasn’t directly allowed to contact Rhett, of course, but what about an intermediary? Link knew he had a brother that he was close with, or at least had been before he got mixed up in the kidnapping stuff. He pulled out his phone and within five minutes found Rhett’s brother’s name (Caleb) and address.

The crane itself would have to be the message. Link was sure that Rhett would understand. He leaned over and dropped the crane into the drawer of his bedside table. There were a few more details he’d have to figure out, like how to get it to Caleb, but having even half a plan made Link feel better.

As for Rodrigo...Link sighed. They were obviously on completely different pages, and it wasn’t working. He got up and unlocked the bedroom door. Rodrigo was in the living room reading something on his phone.

“Hey,” Link said quietly. Rodrigo looked up. “Will you come to therapy with me?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Rodrigo was strangely resistant to couples’ counseling for some reason, but Link eventually convinced him to at least _try_ a few sessions. He hoped it would be helpful.

The next morning, he waited for Rodrigo to head off to work. Link gave him a kiss goodbye, and once he left, Link pulled out his phone. His therapist didn’t do couples’ counseling, so he called and left a message asking for a referral to someone who did.

The next thing on his to do list wasn’t nearly as easy. He hadn’t even gotten dressed yet, and Link was already shaking with nerves. Jade followed him into the bedroom. Black jeans, a moss green t-shirt, a denim jacket, high top sneakers, and Amanda’s navy scarf with tassels. Link had a lot of scarves, but it was still his favorite.

“Okay Jade, let’s get this show on the road.” Link leaned over and clipped her leash on. They walked to the elevator and rode down to the lobby. Link took a deep breath. “I can do this,” he whispered to himself, and walked out the door.

He had his supplies tucked safely into his pocket: a twenty dollar bill, a post-it note with Rhett’s brother Caleb’s address scribbled on it, and the brown Arby’s crane.

Link knew that if he asked Lupe to get him a card and a stamp, she’d be happy to, but this was something he had to do on his own. He pulled the map up on his phone. The nearest post office was about a thirty minute walk away, through unfamiliar neighborhoods. It was going to be by far the longest walk Link had taken since being kidnapped… if he could do it.

“You like this, Jade?” he asked. “New smells to smell, new places to pee.” She certainly seemed to be enjoying herself. Link, on the other hand, was not enjoying the walk at all. He knew it was irrational. This was a nice part of town. He wasn’t going to get kidnapped again. Heck, he probably wasn’t even going to run into a panhandler asking for money.

Link tried to keep himself occupied by counting all the white cars they passed, then switched to houses with shutters, then driveways that were asphalt and driveways that were concrete. It helped a little.

The houses gave way to a little shopping district, all indie boutiques and coffee shops and salons. The post office was at the far end of the strip, so Link had to walk by all the businesses with their big plate glass windows. He didn’t like how exposed it made him feel. Somehow, it was worse than just walking down the street. No one paid any attention to him, though. He was just a guy walking a dog, no different than all the other dog walking guys.

He finally reached the post office. The lobby was empty, and the woman at the desk was reading something on her phone. It seemed straightforward enough. Link grabbed the door handle and noticed a sticker right above it.

_No dogs allowed, except service dogs._

Link looked down at Jade. She wasn’t a service dog, although Link did have a letter from his therapist stating that she was an emotional support animal. He didn’t want to leave her outside, but he also didn’t want to get into an argument with the clerk. Link stood in front of the door, paralyzed. He hadn’t come all this way just to give up, but…

“Excuse me.” A woman came up behind Link and tapped his shoulder. He jumped, startled, and realized he was blocking the door. He quickly stepped back.

“Sorry.” Link watched her go up to the counter. It was so easy for her, but Link’s hands were shaking and his heart was pounding. He looked down at Jade. “I’ll just be a minute, girl. Then I’ll be right back.” Link tied her leash to the bike rack to the side of the door and took a few deep breaths.

Opening the door and stepping through was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but he did it. Link walked to a rack next to the counter. It was filled with greeting cards. He chose a fairly generic one, a sunset over a beach. It was blank inside.

Link suddenly realized he didn’t have a pen. He was going to have to ask the clerk. The woman was still at the counter, so Link stood behind her. This was turning out to be much more complicated than he thought it would be.

Finally, the woman finished her transaction, and Link walked up. “H-hi,” he stammered. “I’d like, uh, like to buy th-this card. And, um, a stamp. And c-can I borrow a pen?” Link was mortified at how nervous he sounded. He could feel himself blushing, which didn’t help at all.

The clerk gave him a weird look, but rang up his card and pulled a single stamp off a roll. “That’ll be $4.63,” she said. Link pulled the twenty out of his pocket and handed it over. His hands shook so much that the bill fluttered.

She gave him another weird look and handed his change back. Link immediately dropped the coins on the counter. “Oh god.” He stuffed the bill in his pocket and swept up the coins. A few fell onto the floor, but he ignored them.

“Here’s the pen,” the clerk said after he finished corralling his money. “When you’re done, you can just stick the card in the letter slot over there.” She jerked her head to Link’s left.

“Thank you.” Link took the pen and fled to the long desk on the wall. He addressed the envelope as clearly as he could with his jittery hands. Inside the card, he wrote “Please forward to Rhett” and tucked the crane inside. He peeled the backing off the adhesive on the envelope flap and sealed it. The stamp was the final step, and then Link stuck it through the letter slot. He hadn’t put a return address on it.

He took the pen back and then fled the post office nearly at a run. Jade was still sitting outside, perfectly happy. Link collapsed on the sidewalk next to her and pulled her into his lap. He was exhausted. “I did it, Jade! It sucked but I did it.” Link sat next to the bike rack for a few more minutes until his heart stopped pounding so much.

The walk home was easier. Link looked at his watch while they rode the elevator up. The whole thing had taken an hour and a half. That was the longest he’d been out of the house for something that wasn’t a medical or legal appointment since his kidnapping. And he did it solo! Link was incredibly proud of himself. 

He had no idea if the crane would actually reach Rhett, but at least he’d tried.

Link took a shower to wash away his nervous sweat and crawled into bed for a nap, hair still damp. He fell asleep with a little smile on his face.


	27. Chapter 27

The trip to the post office became a turning point for Link. Something clicked in his head and made him realize that what he needed to do was to put himself first--the _real_ Link, not the version that he’d been pretending to be. He just wasn’t sure how to do it.

It took nearly a year of on and off couples’ counseling to come to a conclusion: Link didn’t love Rodrigo, at least not the way someone should love their husband. It wasn’t Rodrigo’s fault, of course. He’d been kind and supportive when Link was at his lowest, and Link had latched on. As for Rodrigo, he wanted someone to care for, and the more Link progressed, the less he was the person Rodrigo needed.

They decided to separate. It was a difficult, but mutual, decision. Link moved out of the condo and back into Lupe’s guestroom to figure out what his next step was going to be.

“I guess I’ll see if I can find some sort of job I can work remotely,” he said to Lupe. “Or sign up for Section 8 housing. I can’t stay here forever.”

“Mijo, you can stay as long as you need to.”

Link smiled at her. “Thanks, Mama. What I’d _really_ like is to go back to California, but I can’t afford it, so…” He shrugged. Link hated the frigid Minnesoatan winters. They always threw him into depression.

“What about your dad?” Lupe asked. “Would he help out?”

Link snorted. “He sure as hell didn’t help when I got kidnapped. Why would he help now?”

It did make him think, though. The next day, he sent an email to his dad’s assistant Amanda, updating her on his separation and impending divorce and asking if she could look into maybe helping him get back to California. Link and his individual therapist had spent many sessions talking about what Link felt his father should owe him, and Link had always come down on the side of not wanting any help from his dad. Now, though, his dad looked like a pretty good resource.

Amanda called back a few hours later. Link answered the phone. “Hey.”

“Hey, Link!” Amanda always sounded delighted to hear from him. “Sorry to hear about the divorce.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Link said. “It’s better this way. For both of us.”

“Okay, so you asked about maybe getting help to move back to California?”

“Yeah.”

“Well.” Amanda took a deep breath. “We were actually in the middle of setting up a trust for you when you eloped, which kind of messed things up.”

“Sorry,” Link said.

“Eh.” He could picture Amanda shrugging. “Anyway, you’ll be eligible for it again as soon as you aren’t legally married.”

“So, um, so how much is it?” Link asked. She told him. The phone slid from Link’s grasp and clattered on the floor. He scrambled to pick it up. “Are you _serious_?”

“Absolutely.”

“What if I wanted to get married again?” Link had no idea what _that_ was the first question that came to his mind.

“Uh, I guess you’d have to get a really strong prenup? Are you _planning_ on getting married again?” Amanda sounded confused. 

“No, I…” Link trailed off. “Holy _fuck_. That’s so much money.”

“It is.” Amanda agreed. “I’m going to need your divorce attorney’s contact information.”

“We were just going to do it uncontested…”

“Oh no you aren’t,” she said. “I’ll get you a lawyer.”

When the call ended, Link felt like he was going to get two new problems for every problem the money solved.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_Dear Rhett,_

_I don’t even know how long it’s been since I’ve written you. Years, probably. A lot has changed since then._

_I’m in the middle of getting divorced. I probably never should have gotten married in the first place, but it’s water under the bridge now. I thought it was going to be quick and easy, since we both agreed on everything, but it turned out that my dad set up a $$$ trust that I could only access once the divorce was finalized, so we had to get lawyers involved. It should all be over in about a month, thank god._

_Then I’m going to move back to California. I miss it so much. Minneapolis is nice enough, but I’m never going to feel at home here. And I never want to have to shovel another driveway ever again._

_The other reason I’m coming back to California is because that’s where you are. I’ve spent four and a half years going to therapy and the one thing that’s never changed is how I feel about you (except for that period right after the trial where I hated you, but to be fair, I hated everything then). I want to tell you all the things I never got to tell you before._

_I can’t wait._

_Love,_

_Link_

Link looked at the letter on his screen and smiled. He always deleted them without saving, because he wasn’t allowed to contact Rhett, but that was no longer the case.

Rhett was out! 

Link’s lawyer, Jen, had emailed him about it earlier in the day. He’d been shocked and ecstatic. Rhett had accumulated enough time off for good behavior that he was released nearly seven months early and was currently staying with his brother. If Link wanted to (and he did), he could have picked up the phone and called Rhett right away.

But he was going to wait. Link wasn’t ready yet. He wanted his divorced to be finalized, his trust to be straightened out, and to be settled in California before he contacted Rhett.

Link grinned and deleted the letter.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lupe offered to drive Link to California and help him get settled in his new house. (He knew it was risky to buy a house without visiting it, but he’d had it inspected by the most thorough inspector he could, and it was fairly inexpensive. If Link needed to, he could easily buy another one. He had more money than he knew what to do with now.)

“Mama, you can’t!” he protested.

“Mijo. Who else is going to help you?”

“Uh.” She had a point. “Amanda?”

Lupe waved that away with a scoff. “Amanda is a busy woman! I’m retired. A road trip will be nice.”

And so it was decided. Link was secretly glad she’d offered, because she was right. He didn’t know many people, and he absolutely adored Lupe. Neither of them mentioned Rodrigo. For the most part, he’d been keeping his distance. Link knew Lupe had talked to him, but he hadn’t been able to eavesdrop on their conversations because they were in Spanish. It didn’t bother him. He understood just enough Spanish to know it was nothing bad.

A lot of Link’s furniture had been given away or sold over the years, but there were still a few things left--a couch that was at the condo, some side tables, a few framed pictures, a desk. Link packed up all his books and clothes and miscellaneous belongings while Lupe rented a U-Haul and got everything loaded up.

Rodrigo came to see them off. Link stood next to the truck, chewing on his lip nervously. He wasn’t sure what to say. Finally, he settled on, “Thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you. And… I’m sorry.”

“Link.” Rodrigo pulled him into a big hug. Link squeaked in surprise. “You don’t have to be sorry. Just… get out there and do great things, okay?”

Link smiled bashfully. “Okay.” Rodrigo kissed his cheek and let him go. Link picked up Jade and held her out so Rodrigo could kiss her, too. Lupe came over and kissed Rodrigo, and then she and Link got into the truck and drove off.


	28. Chapter 28

_I can’t believe I’m doing this_ , Link thought, not for the first time, as they crossed through Colorado. It was about a thirty hour drive, and since Lupe was the only one driving, they’d split it up to be a five day trip. _I can’t believe I’m_ able _to do this._ He’d come a long, long way from the man who spent the better part of the year in his house, only leaving for medical and legal appointments.

Link was fine while they were in the truck, but getting out of the truck while they stopped for food or at motels was difficult. Lupe did everything she could to help, but he had a few minor meltdowns. There was a fair amount of Valium involved. 

Finally, they reached their destination. Link’s new house was a little ranch from the 50s, with a sloping roof and a carport. Inside, it had one bedroom and one bathroom, and had been partially remodeled to open the living room and dining room and add a passthrough into the kitchen.

“Mijo, this is _cute_!” Lupe exclaimed as she inspected the house. “Ah, we had a bathroom like this when I was growing up!” It had mint green tiles bordered with black, black and white hexagon floor tiles, and a matching mint sink and tub.

Link laughed. “You’re acting like this is a surprise. I showed you the pictures!”

Lupe gently swatted his arm. “Hush. Let me enjoy this.”

She ended up staying a week. Link stayed at the hotel while she hired movers to bring his furniture in (the thought of being in his house with strangers was too much to deal with). Lupe took Link’s bank card and went on a shopping spree, buying kitchen and cleaning supplies, linens, and pantry staples. “I love shopping!” she told him. “I’ve never had so much fun in my life.”

They both cried when it was time for her to leave. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Lupe asked through her tears. “I worry about you, mijo.”

“I’m gonna be fine, Mama.” Link sounded more confident than he felt. “You know how hard I’ve been working to get here.” She knew. She’d even been to a few of Link and Rodrigo’s counseling sessions.

Lupe pulled him into a tight hug. “I love you, mijo. You call me right away if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay.” Link squeezed her back. “I love you too, Mama.” He sat on his front step with Jade in his lap and wiped tears off his face as she drove away.

Link was alone for the first time in five years.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was hard. Link could feel himself losing some of the progress he’d made, now that he didn’t have anyone to kick his ass into gear. He forced himself to go out and walk Jade. After a couple of days, he was able to take her around the block. It felt like a huge victory.

Link bought a lot of stuff online. He ordered his groceries for delivery, and spent a lot of time on Amazon. One of the first things he had shipped to his new place was a package of origami paper and some plain, blank cards.

When they arrived, he sat at the dining room table and opened the origami paper with shaking hands. He selected a square of goldenrod chrysanthemums. Link hadn’t made a crane since the last day of his captivity, but his hands knew the steps through pure muscle memory. When it was finished, he selected a plain blue card and stuck the crane to the front with a glue stick. He picked up a pen and tapped it on the table. When he figured out what to say, he opened the card and began writing.

_Rhett--_

_I heard you were out and I just moved back to California, so if you’d like to hang out some time, give me a call._

_Link_

The final touch was his phone number. Link looked at his inscription. It was neutral enough that Rhett could take it any number of ways, but he was sure that the crane on the front would let Rhett know how he felt.

Link addressed the envelope and clipped it to his mailbox to be collected.

And then he hoped and waited.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Link’s phone rang three days later, making him jump. He picked it up and frowned at it. It was a number that he didn’t recognize, but it had a local area code, so he swiped to answer.

“Hello?” 

Silence.

“Hellooo?”

Silence.

“Freakin’ spam calls.” Link pulled the phone from his ear and went to hang up, but he heard a strangled little voice.

“W… wait!” Whoever was on the other end of the line cleared their throat. “Wait, Link, it’s me. It’s Rhett.”

A slow smile spread across Link’s face. He could barely believe it. Rhett! “Well, hey. I didn’t think you’d actually call.”

Rhett laughed. Link loved hearing it. He’d been worried about what sort of person Rhett had become in prison, but if he could laugh so easily and loosely, he couldn’t have changed that much. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Link shrugged, even though Rhett couldn’t see him. “Well, I don’t know. I don’t know what your life has been like for the past few years. Maybe you’d just want to move past it. Forget it ever happened, you know?”

“I’m never gonna forget that.” Link could hear the hurt and guilt in Rhett’s tone, and it broke his heart. “But I didn’t think you’d want to talk to _me_. I mean, I was responsible for… for what ended up happening to you.”

 _No you weren’t._ “I don’t wanna have this conversation over the phone.” He wanted--needed--to see Rhett.

Rhett hesitated. When he spoke, he sounded incredibly apprehensive. “But you _do_ wanna have it?”

“Of course! I’ve been waiting almost five years to talk to you.” _And finally, I am!_ It was an awkward, stilted conversation, but they were finally, finally back in contact.

“Oh… okay. So, uh, when are you free?”

Link was always free. “Tomorrow?” _Right now?_

“Uh… wow.” Rhett sounded so nervous, like he was a middle schooler arranging a date. “Yeah, that would be fine.”

Link gave Rhett his address and then set a time. “See you then,” he said, and ended the call. He leapt off the couch and did a fist pump. “Yesss!” In less than twenty four hours, Rhett would be at his house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> END OF ACT TWO


	29. Chapter 29

The house was a disaster. Link had only been there for ten days, and there were boxes and piles of items that hadn’t found a home yet everywhere. He didn’t care. The bathroom was clean, which was the most important thing.

He was both excited and scared. Link had been waiting so long for this, but he had no idea what was going to happen. He took a Valium and lay down on the couch. Jade hopped up and curled up on his middle. Her weight and warmth comforted him, and he began to drift off, despite his nerves.

The doorbell rang. Link grunted at Jade launched herself off his gut and galloped towards the door. He pulled out his phone and checked the doorbell camera. It showed a flannel clad torso.

That was Rhett, all right. Link grabbed his glasses and went to the door. Jade bounced around excitedly at his feet. Link said, “Shush,” and gently shoved her away with the side of his foot. He opened the door.

Rhett! Taller than Link remembered, possibly because he had long, long hair pulled up in a knot on the top of his head. His beard was trimmed short, and there were a few gray streaks in it. It was a great look on him. “Hey.” Link grinned at him. “Come on in.”

Rhett just looked at him like he’d seen a ghost. Link could tell he was looking at the scars. He didn’t cover them up at home, and it wasn’t like Rhett didn’t know they were there.

Link covered his throat with his hand. It was getting harder to keep Jade from running out the door. “Seriously, get in here. I don’t want Jade getting out.”

“Oh, sorry.” Rhett came in. Link shut and locked the door behind him. Rhett turned his head from side to side around, taking in the mess, looking at anything but Link.

“Sorry, I’m still moving in.” _Obviously_. He motioned for Rhett to follow him into the living room, but Rhett stayed rooted where he was, a spooked expression on his face.“Rhett, are you okay? You haven’t said a word.”

Rhett let out a breath, like he’d been holding it in. “I… sorry. It’s just a lot. I spent so much time imagining seeing you, or not seeing you, but now that I’m here, I don’t know what to expect.”

Link understood perfectly, although he was surprised that he wasn’t the one freaking out. “Yeah, I feel that. You want some iced tea? We can just sit and talk for awhile.”

“Uh, sure.” Link went into the kitchen. By the time he came back with two glasses of ice tea, Rhett was settled into one of the big chairs, leaning over to pet Jade.

Link smiled as he set down the tea. Rhett was so big and Jade was so small. It was adorable. “You can pick her up, if you want. She’ll go to sleep in your lap.”

“What’s her name?”

“Jade.”

“Jade! Hi, Jade.” Rhett used the universal talking to pets singsong voice as he picked her up. “I missed dogs. I’m gonna get a dog when I get my own place.” He smiled as he stroked Jade, which made Link smile in turn.

They talked for a while about what they’d been up to for the past four years. Link told Rhett about how lonely and isolated he was, how much he missed Rhett (“I missed you a lot. Like, a _lot_.”), and how he got into a relationship with Rodrigo, and how it fell apart. 

“It seems stupid now,” Link sighed. He still had a lot of complicated feelings about his marriage and divorce. Guilt that one of his main motivations was to distract himself from Rhett, anger that Rodrigo had gone along with it and jeopardized Link’s recovery with his caretaker instincts, relief that it was over. He didn’t tell Rhett any of that. It was too soon.

Rhett told him a little about prison. It sounded awful, and Link’s heart ached at the thought of Rhett suffering on his behalf. It sounded like he’d been pretty productive while he was locked up, though. He played guitar, tutored some other prisoners, played basketball, went to therapy groups.

“Portelli was there for a while,” Rhett said.

“ _What?_ ” Link was utterly shocked.

Rhett nodded. “Yeah, he got transferred in after I’d been there about a year. He, um, he got into his cellie’s trunk, and found his sister’s address and wrote her some kind of inappropriate letter. That’s, like, the worst thing you could ever do. It breaks so many official and unofficial rules… everyone hated him. His cellie beat his ass and knocked out some of his teeth. They sent him to the SHU--solitary--and then transferred him out, but the guys at the new place found what he did, so he got put in the SHU there, too.”

Link still had the occasional dream about Portelli throwing him in the trunk. Maybe they’d stop, now that he knew Portelli was being dealt with. _Fingers crossed_ , thought Link.

“Can I hug you?” Link asked. He held his breath. Five years, he’d been waiting for _five years_ …

“Oh! Yeah, I’d like that.” Link carefully scooped a sleeping Jade out of Rhett’s lap so he could stand. He stood in front of Rhett and looked up into his green eyes. Then he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Rhett’s neck.

Rhett hugged him back, pulling Link in close. The tension immediately drained out of Link’s body. It was everything he’d hoped for. Rhett was big and solid and Link felt wonderfully safe in his arms, in a way that he’d never felt with Rodrigo. He never wanted to let go.

Link rested his head on Rhett’s shoulder. “I missed you. Is that stupid? Someone I knew for three weeks five years ago. And it was such a weird situation.”

Rhett immediately shook his head. “It’s not stupid. I missed you, too.”

Link didn’t want to let him go, but there was something he needed to show Rhett. There was a moment as he pulled out of the hug, with his hands on Rhett’s chest and Rhett’s hands on his waist, that made Link swear he saw sparks. He looked away before he did something stupid.

He led Rhett into the dining room and put one of the boxes on the table. “I haven’t seen it yet. I wanted to save it so you could do the honors.”

Rhett carefully opened the box. Inside was a wooden shadow box picture frame, with Link’s cranes delicately suspended on nearly invisible monofilaments. “Link, it’s beautiful.”

“There’s not a thousand anymore, though. Only nine hundred and ninety nine.” Link swallowed. Had his crane reached Rhett? As if Rhett had heard his thoughts, he pulled out his wallet. The two cranes were tucked inside. “Oh! You did get it!” Relief and happiness flooded through Link.

“Yeah.” Rhett tried to give the crane back to Link, who shook his head in refusal.

“Keep it. I don’t need it anymore, because look… My wish came true.” Link put an arm around Rhett’s waist and tucked himself against his side. Rhett draped an arm around him.

“Huh,” Rhett said. “It sure did, didn’t it?”

Link had never been happier in his life.


	30. Chapter 30

They fell into a comfortable routine. Every Tuesday, Rhett would drive to Link’s house so they could spend the day together. The rest of the time, they called, texted, and video chatted. They had five years, and a whole lifetime, to catch up on.

Rhett looked older and tireder than Link remembered, but he supposed that prison would do that to a person. He was also aware that he himself had aged a lot over the past five years. Neither of them had had an easy time of it.

But this Rhett laughed and smiled far more than the Rhett of five years ago, which delighted Link. He realized that the Rhett he’d been imagining for years wasn’t the real Rhett at all, but a diminished, subdued version. He was still as kind and gentle and protective as before, but he was also loud and funny and outgoing.

They had very different views of Link’s assault as well. To Link, Rhett had risked a great deal to rescue him. Rhett was his savior. Rhett, on the other hand, blamed himself. It took a while, but the closer they became as friends, the more similar their views became: they were both victims.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Other than establishing a real friendship with Rhett, Link’s main goal was to get out of the house more. There was a little organic grocer about a mile away from his house, and he asked Rhett to walk with him there. Link was surprised and pleased to learn that dogs were allowed as long as they rode in the cart. It was perfect. He made it a habit to take Jade and go there twice a week.

He did his best to be otherwise social, as well. Link emailed Amanda sporadically and talked to Lupe on the phone a lot. He even spoke with Rodrigo occasionally.

He’d been back in California for about two months when his phone rang. Link looked at the ID. It was Rodrigo. He swiped to answer. “Hey.”

“Hey, Link!” Rodrigo greeted him cheerfully. As it turned out, they got along much better when they were in different states. “How’s it going? Are you getting out more?”

“I am!” Link filled him in on his grocery store trips. “I got this awful watermelon kombucha today. Ugh. Never again.”

Rodrigo laughed. “I can’t believe you worked up the courage to walk that far to a completely new place.” Link never told him about the trip to the post office.

“Oh, no, the first time I made Rh--” Link snapped his mouth shut. Oh no. He hadn’t wanted Rodrigo to know about his friendship with Rhett, but his tendency to speak without thinking was about to get him in trouble again.

“Sorry, who? You cut out a little bit there.”

“Um. Rhett?” Link squeezed his eyes closed and held his breath.

“Rhett _McLaughlin?_ ” Rodrigo asked in disbelief.

“You know any other Rhetts?”

Rodrigo groaned in exasperation. Link could perfectly picture him rubbing his temple. He’d seen it many times during their arguments. “God damn it, Link, you know--”

Link cut him off. “Yes, Rodrigo, I know, okay? I know what you think of him. I also know things that _you_ don’t know. There’s a lot that happened during those three weeks that anyone who wasn’t there wouldn’t understand. Do you know how valuable it is for me to be able to talk to him?”

“Link…”

“ _And_ he told me what happened to Portelli! I’ve only had the trunk dream twice since then.”

That got Rodrigo’s attention. He didn’t like Rhett, but he _hated_ Portelli. “What happened to Portelli?”

“Uh, he snooped in his cellmate’s stuff and got his sister’s address, and wrote her a creepy letter, which is apparently the only thing you can do that will make _everybody_ hate you. So his cellmate knocked out his teeth and Portelli got sent to solitary so he wouldn’t get killed.”

“Whoa,” Rodrigo said in the exact same shocked tone that Link had used when he found out.

“Yeah.” Maybe that would distract Rodrigo from Rhett.

It did not. “I just don’t think you should hang out with him.”

Link rolled his eyes. He was _not_ going to have this conversation. “Look, I’m going to be friends with Rhett. It doesn’t matter if you don’t like it or don’t approve of it or whatever, okay? You may have been my husband, but you’ve _never_ been my keeper.”

There was a long pause. Rodrigo sighed. “I gotta go.”

“Okay. Talk to you later.”

“Bye.” 

The call ended. Link set down his phone and blew his breath out noisily. Jade looked up at him. Link reached down to ruffle her ears.

“Well, girl, if we weren’t already done, that probably did it.”

He found that he didn’t mind that much at all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Does your family know we’ve been hanging out?” Link asked.

Rhett looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Um, no. No, they do not.”

“It’s been three months, Rhett. You’re gonna have to tell them some time.”

“I know. It’s gonna be awkward. Tessa’s gonna look at me all mom-concerned and Caleb’s gonna say something about ‘moving backwards’ and I really just don’t want to deal with it.” Rhett made a face and stomped on a crunchy dead leaf. Jade skittered away from his feet, startled.

“I told Rodrigo. He wasn’t happy. I knew he wouldn’t be.” That was a bit of an understatement. Lupe, on the other hand, had just laughed. _Mijo, you do whatever makes you happy._

“Then why’d you tell him?”

Link threw up his hands. “Because he asked!” That was technically true. “And, I mean, he knew part of the reason I moved back here when I did is because it was around when you were getting out…”

Rhett froze. Link took a few steps and then turned around to see him open mouthed in astonishment. “You moved back here for _me_? You didn’t even know if I was willing to talk to you!”

“It wasn’t just for you, although I will admit that was a factor. I hated Minneapolis. I kept waiting for it to feel more like home, but it never did.” It was Link’s turn to make a disgusted face. “So I came back to California.”

“During the trial… I saw him looking at me. I kind of got the feeling he didn’t like me.”

“He didn’t. He thought you should have acted sooner.”

“I should have! I’m never going to forgive myself for that.” There was real anguish in Rhett’s voice. Link wished he could make Rhett feel better, but the most he could do was tell him about the breakdown he had after the trial that spurred the move to Minneapolis, and how hard he’d worked in therapy so _he_ could forgive Rhett. “Rodrigo was very much of the mindset that I leave it all behind as fast as possible, and yeah, there was a lot I couldn’t wait to put behind me, but…”

“But what?” Rhett glanced over at him and stuck his hands in his hoodie pockets.

“That would have meant leaving _you_ behind. I was so attached to you, Rhett.” _I loved you. I still love you._ “You were the only good thing in that hellhole, and I didn’t want to let you go. I thought about you all the time. If I’d been allowed to contact you… I dunno what would have happened.” Link thought about all the promptly deleted letters he’d written to Rhett.

“Yeah. My lawyer told me I had to let you go.”

Lawyer… oh shit. “Does _she_ know we’re hanging out?”

“Nope. Does your lawyer?”

“Nope. But I’ll make a deal with you: I’ll tell mine if you tell yours.”

“That’s fair. And I’ll tell my family.”

“Deal.” They shook on it. As always, a little spark went through Link at Rhett’s touch.


	31. Chapter 31

_From: Link Neal_

_To: Jen Matichuk_

_Subject: Rhett_

_Hi Jen,_

_I got in touch with Rhett a couple months ago and we’ve been hanging out. I know there isn’t a restraining order or anything, but I wanted to let you know._

_Link_

_From: Jen Matichuk_

_To: Link Neal_

_Subject: Re: Rhett_

_Hey Link,_

_I figured that was going to happen when you moved back to California. I don’t have any objection to it, but watch out for the media. They’d go wild for that._

_Jen_

~*~*~*~*~*~*

They sat at Link’s dining room table with the Thai takeout Link had ordered. “I should have taken a picture of that disgusting ‘tamale’ before you threw it away and sent it to my mother-in-law,” Link said. Rhett had made a couple prison snacks for him. The ‘tamale’ was a log of a paste made of Fritos, Hot Cheetos, and water. “She makes real tamales on special occasions. I’d love to know what she had to say about it.”

Rhett had already eaten two platefuls of food, but he dumped a few more noodles onto his plate anyway. “I could make another batch,” he offered.

“That will _not_ be necessary,” Link said, and shuddered. He pointed at Rhett’s plate. “Are you gonna want more after that?”

“Nah.” Link packed up the leftovers and took his dishes into the kitchen. Rhett followed. “You should come over to my place some time.”

“Oh!” The only other household Link had visited was Lupe’s house, and he’d lived there for six months. This would be a big step for him. “Um, sure. Can I bring Jade?” With Jade and Rhett supporting him, he’d probably be fine.

Rhett nodded. “I’m sure that would be fine, but I’ll ask Caleb to be sure. I don’t think anyone has allergies or anything. The kids will want to play with her, Avery especially. She loves dogs.”

“I think that would be okay, once I’ve been there a little while. I don’t really know. I’ve never dealt with a group of kids before.” That was mostly true even _before_ his kidnapping.

“Your family-in-law didn’t have kids?” Rhett asked.

“Nope. Rodrigo’s an only child, and he has a few cousins but they were all grown.” _And I mostly hid in the bedroom when they were around._ Once again, Link felt guilty for everything he’d put Rodrigo through. _He knew what he was getting into_ , he reminded himself.

Rhett pulled him against his chest. Link closed his eyes and leaned into him. “I’ll do everything I can to make it easy for you, okay? I’ll tell the kids they can’t mess with Jade because she’s working, if there’s anything you don’t want them to ask you about, I’ll make sure they don’t, if you get uncomfortable, we can leave right away and I’ll drive you home.”

“Even if it’s in the middle of dinner?”

“Even if it’s in the middle of dinner,” Rhett promised.


	32. Chapter 32

Link was a big fan of Rhett’s car, which actually belonged to his nephew Zack. It was a bright blue Honda Civic that seemed to have some new and ridiculous modification every time he saw it. This was the first time he’d ridden in it, though.

“Oh, wow.” The footwells of the car were illuminated with strips of LEDs that cycled through the spectrum. Rhett called them “fucking stupid,” but Link thought they were fun, in a gay pride parade sort of way.

He was very, very nervous, despite the Valium he’d taken. Rhett’s family was almost certainly lovely, but they knew _everything_ about him, and he knew next to nothing about them.

“So Jake and Katie went to Tessa’s parents’ house.” Link did his best to remember all of Rhett’s family’s names. Jake and Katie were the two elementary schoolers, and Tessa was Rhett’s sister-in-law. “That’ll cut down on the chaos level by quite a lot. Zack and Avery are under strict orders to leave Jade alone unless you give them permission, and Caleb’s making spaghetti with meatballs and garlic bread.” More names. Zack and Avery were the teenagers, and Caleb was Rhett’s brother. There was a baby, too, but Link couldn’t remember her name.

“Sounds good.” Link reached over to pat Rhett’s leg, but paused. Was that too intimate? They hugged all the time and curled up on the couch together, but… he stopped thinking and just did it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Rhett reached down and gave his hand a squeeze.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rhett’s family _was_ lovely. Link noticed that they all tried to subtly look at his neck, but he had on a funnel neck hoodie that covered it up. 

“And this is Abby,” Rhett said after introducing everyone else. Abby was completely bald, chubby, and wearing a onesie with dinosaurs on it. Rhett held her so she faced Link. “Abby, this is Link. Say hi.”

“Hi, Abby.” Link had no idea what to do with a baby. He took her plump hand in his and gave it a shake. She grabbed his finger and stuck it in her mouth. “She’s strong!” _And her teeth are sharp!_

“That’s my girl!” Rhett looked perfectly at home with a baby in his arms. “That’s why I had to cut my beard off. She’d grab and pull and not let go.”

“Cut your beard?”

Rhett bounced Abby a little. “Oh, I guess you never saw it. I had this really long Duck Dynasty beard because I didn’t cut it for five years. There’s a picture on the fridge.”

Link walked over to the fridge. It was covered in drawings, photos, notes, and all sorts of magnets. He saw the picture immediately. It showed Rhett, his brother and sister-in-law, and the two older kids standing in front of a cinderblock wall that was painted with a waterfall mural. Everyone was smiling. It had sort of a Sears Portrait Studio feel to it.

Rhett did indeed have an impressively large and bushy beard. His hair was down, too, giving him a particularly wild look. He wore blue scrublike clothes. Link could see big block letters going down the leg of his pants. INMATE

It hurt to see Rhett like that, even knowing that he was out now, even knowing that Rhett had been fully aware of what he was doing. Link swallowed hard. “God, Rhett, I’m so sorry.”

“What, that I had to cut my beard?”

Link shook his head. “No, that you had to go to prison. I mean...” he said quietly. Rhett’s brother was working at the stove on the other side of the kitchen. “I saw you in the jumpsuit and shackles at the trial, but seeing you like that in that picture… it makes it realer for me, I guess.”

“I… just a second.” Rhett went into the living room. There was a shriek of protest from the baby, and Rhett came back empty handed. He hugged Link. “It’s okay, Link. You need to go outside for a breather? Or do you want me to get Jade? She’s making friends with Avery.”

“Yeah.” Link felt overwhelmed and exposed. He wanted to go somewhere where no one would look at him. The bedroom was his usual go-to. “Can we go sit in your room or something? I just need a minute.”

Rhett directed him down the basement stairs and went to collect Jade from his niece. Link opened the door to Rhett’s room. It was nice, if a little bland. There was a soft blue carpet on the floor, and the walls were a rich cream. Rhett’s sheets matched the blue carpet, and his comforter was covered in blue flowers. Link wondered who’d chosen the decor. Rhett didn’t seem like a pale blue flower kind of guy.

He sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed one of the pillows, hugging it tight. It had the citrusy smell that he remembered from Rhett’s blankets while they were in the room together. “I can do this,” Link whispered to himself. He wanted to make Rhett proud, and he wanted to give himself another victory.

Link heard the clump of someone coming down the stairs. Link put the pillow aside as Rhett handed Jade to him. Link held her close and she licked his face. “Thanks,” he whispered.

Rhett sat and and scooted close to Link, who rested his head on Rhett’s shoulder. “I feel like it’s my fault. That you went to prison.” His voice was even rougher than it usually was.

“It wasn’t.” Rhett’s tone was certain.

“Oh, I know. It just feels like it.” Five years of therapy, and he still felt it.

“You know, that’s pretty much how I feel about what happened to you.” Rhett laughed, but there was no humor in it.

 _What happened to you_. Link was tired of dancing around the subject. He put Jade on the bed next to him and pulled down the neck of his hoodie. They’d never actually said the words, and that stopped now. “You can say it, Rhett. Confront the fear.” Link realized he was confronting it, too.

“You got… your throat… cut.” Rhett trembled more than Link had ever seen. He looked like he might throw up.

“I did. But I’m okay. And so are you.”

“Wait.” Rhett reached out and gently touched Link’s hand to stop him from pulling his hoodie back up. “Can I… ?”

“Oh. Sure.” Link was surprised at how easily he agreed, and how certain he was. He had absolutely no apprehension about Rhett touching the scar.

Link’s neck had always been an erogenous zone, but Rodrigo always avoided it, and Link didn’t mind. He closed his eyes as Rhett’s finger touched his throat. It was so delicate, so gentle. It felt so good that he had to stop himself from whimpering. He desperately, desperately wanted Rhett.

“Wow,” Rhett whispered as he pulled his hand back. Link saw tears in his eyes, and realized he was crying, too.

“Yeah. God, we’re a pair, aren’t we?” Link put his head back on Rhett’s shoulder.

Rhett draped his arm over Link. “We sure are.”


	33. Chapter 33

Link managed to get through dinner without panicking. He didn’t know what Rhett said to his family about him, but they didn’t pry and they didn’t scrutinize him. The food was delicious, too. It went as well as he could have possibly hoped.

Even so, he fled back to Rhett’s bedroom as soon as they were finished. Link lay on top of Rhett’s comforter and they talked for a while. Socializing was _exhausting_. Link told Rhett about how he used to hide in the bedroom when Rodrigo had people over, and how Lupe drove him from Minnesota to California so he wouldn’t have to fly.

“It’s great that you still have a relationship with her,” Rhett said. Link realized they were holding hands, so he gave Rhett’s hand a squeeze. “You ready to go home?”

“Yeah.” Link felt like he could fall asleep right where he was, which surprised him. He was never this relaxed in a new place. It must have been Rhett’s presence. “Do, um, do you want to stay at my place tonight?”

He felt Rhett twitch on the bed next to him. There was a moment of silence before Rhett found his voice. “Uh, I… I mean… you only have one bed!”

 _That’s kind of the point_. Link opened his eyes and looked at Rhett, who had an expression of mild panic on his face. “Is that really a problem? We used to nap on that horrible couch together.” 

“Yeah, but that was different… I have to babysit tomorrow morning anyway.”

“Oh.” Link couldn’t figure out if Rhett was trying to let him down easy or not. His heart sank.

“Some other time, okay? I promise.” Rhett pulled Link into a hug, exactly how Link wanted to be held as he went to sleep. Link snuggled up against him, feeling a little better.

“Okay,” he mumbled into Rhett’s chest. Rhett laughed softly.

“Let’s get you home.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Link held back from making another move for a while. He needed to be sure of Rhett’s feelings, because if Rhett rejected him, Link thought he might just die. He had it bad, so he carefully watched Rhett’s behavior towards him and tried to be objective.

Rhett called and texted him all the time. He ran errands and did favors for Link, and brought snacks and little presents when he came over. Everything he did was thoughtful and generous.

He touched Link almost as much as Link touched him. They stood shoulder to shoulder, took any excuse to hug, curled up on the couch together to watch movies and TV shows (Rhett had a _lot_ to catch up on), and roughhoused and wrestled.

It was the wrestling that made Link sure that Rhett had feelings for him. There were a _lot_ of wandering hands and a _lot_ of full body contact, and Rhett was usually the one to initiate it. It was obviously a way for Rhett to be more physical with him under an air of plausible deniability, but Link saw right through him.

Rhett was doing incredibly well. He’d been out for nearly a year. His job moved him to full time, so he was going to buy a car, move into his own apartment, and get a dog. Link was absurdly proud of him.

He was also done waiting for him to make a move. It had been five months since Link had sent his card. He decided to take the next opportunity to show Rhett his true feelings. It didn’t take long.

They ended up on the couch together after a scuffle ( _Bingo_ , Link thought), talking about Rhett’s upcoming independence. Link had never offered to pay rent or buy a car for Rhett, even though he could easily have afforded it. He knew Rhett would have refused.

“A dog, a house, a car… this is gonna be great.” Rhett grinned happily.

“You know, I could have just _bought_ you a car at any point. I have a ridiculous amount of money. It’s so weird to think of myself as a trust fund baby.” Could you be a trust fund baby if you didn’t get the trust until your late thirties? Whatever.

Rhett huffed out a little laugh. “I called you baby a few times. I don’t know where that came from.”

“Uh, pretty sure it’s ‘cause you like me.” Link jabbed Rhett in the ribs. Plausibly deniable physical contact.

“I do like you.” Rhett sounded nervous. Link glanced over and looked at him out of the corner of his eye. Rhett swallowed. “Baby.”

Nothing had ever sounded better to Link. He got closer. “Say it again.” 

To his delight, Rhett pulled Link into his lap. “Baby.”

 _Gotcha_. “I like it. I like you. And I think I’ll like… this.” Link leaned in and closed his eyes. Rhett sat frozen until Link’s lips touched his. Then he shivered all over and grabbed Link’s waist. Link draped his arms over Rhett’s shoulders and relaxed into him.

It was everything he’d hoped for and more. Rhett was as gentle and patient with his kisses as he was with everything else. Link savored the moment. He didn’t know if it made up for _everything_ he’d been through, but it made up for a lot.

Finally, Link broke the kiss. “Yeah, I like that a lot. What do you think?”

Rhett seemed a little shell shocked.“ Wow. I, uh, didn’t really expect that. But I like it too, baby.”

Link snickered and poked him in the ribs again. “Really? You really didn’t expect that? We’ve been dancing around that pretty much since we met.”

“I mean… arg! I guess I’m not really surprised. We like each other, a lot, and you _did_ invite me to sleep in your bed with you. But it feels wrong, Link! It’s like… you’re off limits.” 

_Off limits_? Link’s stomach dropped. “What? Why?” 

“Because! I was your captor, and you were my prisoner. Doing anything would just be _wrong_.” Link heard real anguish in his voice. He had to set Rhett straight.

Link wove his fingers into Rhett’s hair and looked him straight in the eye. “ _Was_ , Rhett. Past tense. That’s over now. It’s _been_ over, for six years! I know this whole thing is weird, but please believe me: I’m not off limits. I’m not broken, I’m not the terrified prisoner I was before. Just trust me, okay?” _Please, please trust me._

“I trust you. But you’re gonna have to be patient with me, baby. I think you’ve had more time to come to terms with it, if that makes sense? Prison’s kind of like a time warp. You get stuck.” Rhett stroked Link’s hair.

Link smiled at him. He was so happy. “Of course. Now that I have you, I’ll wait as long as you want.”

Rhett’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, you have me?” Link started to nod, but shrieked with laughter as Rhett grabbed his thighs and flipped him over onto the couch. “No, I have _you_!” He straddled Link and kissed him again, fiercely this time. Link gave as good as he got. He felt like he’d been waiting forever, and now he had everything he wanted.


	34. Chapter 34

Rhett got his car (a bright green Chevy Impala), his dog (a fluffy little Maltese mix named Barbara), and his apartment (a second floor unit in an old building). Link accompanied him to his new place. It was entirely empty. Link asked Rhett how he planned on decorating it.

“I don’t really know yet. It’s been...gosh, seven years?” Rhett looked up at the ceiling and thought for a moment. “Yeah, seven years since I had my own place. All I know is, I want color. There’s no color in prison. Gray walls, white sheets. I never wanna see a white sheet ever again.”

“Mmm, guess I’ll have to buy some new ones. ‘Cause that’s all I got.” Link loved white sheets. So crisp, so clean. 

Rhett put his arms around Link. “I’d put up with a white sheet for you, baby.”

“Tonight, Rhett? Please?” He’d been waiting for so long.

“Okay. You’ve been so patient. I know it’s taken me a while to get my life straightened out, but I’m ready now.”

“Then let’s go.” Link grabbed Rhett’s hand and pulled him towards the door. Rhett laughed and followed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They started on the couch in Link’s living room, but Rhett had no sooner started to pull up Link’s shirt when Jade hopped up on the couch to join them. Link tried to shoo her away, but she wouldn’t leave, so they escaped to the bedroom and Link closed the door in Jade’s disappointed face.

Rhett put his hands back under Link’s shirt, but Link wanted-- _needed_ \--more. He fell back onto the bed and yanked Rhett down with him. “God, Rhett. I just... I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“I know. I’ve wanted it ever since I caught you jerking off.” Rhett nuzzled Link’s jaw. His beard tickled a little.

“You know, I’d almost managed to forget that.” Link realized that this was exactly what he’d been fantasizing about when Rhett caught him, Rhett above him with his hand on Link’s waist.

“Oh, no. I _never_ want to forget that. God, you looked good. So how about you take that shirt off so I can see it again, baby?” Rhett’s voice was dark with desire. Link shivered. If Rhett kept talking to him like that, Link would do anything he wanted. He whipped his shirt off.

Rhett made a satisfied little noise and leaned closer. He froze. Link knew what the problem was immediately. Rhett saw his scars every time they were together, but this was a different context.

He grabbed Rhett’s face and made Rhett look him in the eye.“Hey. Hey, Rhett. It’s okay, really. It’s just a scar. It can’t hurt us anymore.” Link stroked his cheek gently.

Rhett swallowed. “I know. It’s just…”

Link didn’t have time for this. He’d been waiting for this for months, and he was done talking about feelings. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

Rhett laughed softly and leaned back in to kiss Link’s jaw. Link sighed with pleasure as Rhett went to work on his neck, kissing, licking, biting, sucking. He thrust his hips up to grind on Rhett. They were both rock hard. Link wondered if he could cum just from having his neck kissed. He wouldn’t be surprised if he did. 

He slid his hands down Rhett’s torso to the waist of his jeans and trailed his fingers to the fly. Link unbuttoned and unzipped it so he could reach in and grab Rhett. His eyebrows shot up a little. Rhett was _thick_. Link tightened his grip and began to stroke Rhett, who immediately came all over Link’s chest.

“ _Fuck_! God damn it.” Rhett sighed in disgust.

“Uh…” Was that it?

“Fuck!” Rhett rolled off of Link and lay next to him on the bed. “Sorry. It’s been a really, really long time. Like, six or seven years. And you’re really hot.”

Link was dying. He needed Rhett’s hands on him. “That’s fine and all, but I’d really like it if you’d return the favor.”

Rhett jerked his head up, like he’d forgotten Link was there. “Oh, fuck yes. Been wanting to get my hands on this for a while.” He reached into Link’s pants and went back to Link’s neck. It only took a few strokes of Rhett’s big hand to send Link shivering and whimpering over the edge.

Rhett snuggled close to Link as he caught his breath. “Let’s try again in a while. Maybe we’ll last longer,” he said.

“I’ll try as many times as you want.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They only tried once more that night, but it went perfectly. Link learned that Rhett was not always gentle or patient, that he could bend in ways he wouldn’t have thought possible (Link was very glad he’d kept up with his yoga), and how much better sex was when it was with someone he loved and trusted one hundred percent.

Later, when they were tucked in bed with the lights out, Link lay awake, thinking. Rhett was curled up with his back to Link, asleep, and his deep, even breathing reminded Link of being in the basement room (he still thought of it as the basement room, even though he knew very well it wasn’t), when he slept on the couch and Rhett slept on the air mattress. How far they’d come, just to end up sleeping in the same room again.

It wasn’t fair to compare Rodrigo to Rhett, but Link did it anyway. He didn’t love Rodrigo, never had, really, but he was incredibly grateful towards him. After his captivity, Link had been so alone that he’d had to _hire_ help. No one had asked Rodrigo to reach out to Link and no one had asked him to take over Link’s care, but he did anyway. They’d only really been together for a little under four years, but that time had allowed Link to heal and grow and get back to being a semi-functional person. If only they’d been smart enough to _not_ get married… Link rolled his eyes. He could only claim fifty percent of the blame for that particular decision.

But what would it have been like if he’d been in touch with Rhett for those five long years? Link glanced over, but all he could make out in the gloom was the silhouette of a mess of curls on the pillow next to him. No matter how much Link missed him, it was probably better that they hadn’t been allowed to contact each other. Link knew he wouldn’t have been able to progress as well as he did if he’d been able to talk to Rhett. They would have just reinforced each other’s trauma, over and over, and made that the basis of their relationship. It was the years of distance that made them able to become actual friends, not just two people who’d shared a particular experience.

And now they were more than friends. Link loved Rhett, and knew that Rhett loved him. He draped an arm over Rhett’s middle and tucked his legs behind the crook of Rhett’s knees. Link closed his eyes and smiled.

It was worth the wait.


	35. Chapter 35

“That reminds me, I have something to show you.” Rhett got up and dug around in the pile of bags and boxes on his living room floor. Link watched from Rhett’s new black couch. It was already covered with white dog hair. He came up with a wadded up hand towel. “Here.”

Link took it gingerly. There was an object inside the towel, a flat rectangle of some kind. He extracted it from the towel. “Oh, Rhett! This is beautiful.” It was a miniature version of Link’s framed cranes, a shadowbox with Rhett’s two Arby’s cranes strung up together.

Rhett grinned. “Tessa made it for me, after I told her about your cranes. You know how much she loves that DIY crap.”

Link nodded in approval. “She did a good job.” He’d been to Rhett’s family’s house a few more times, and he liked more every time he visited. Even the little kids. “You know, Rodrigo didn’t want me to hang up my cranes.”

“No?”

“He didn’t even want me to _have_ them. I had a horrible time getting them out of police evidence, but I _needed_ them, you know?”

Rhett knew. He probably needed them even more than Link did.

“God, the fight we had…” _Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don’t a reminder of my husband’s fucking attempted murder hanging up on the wall?_ “Anyway, I ended up keeping them in my closet in a box, way in the back, and when I needed to remind myself that not everything about the experience was awful, I’d get them out.”

“Why did you send me one?” Rhett asked. “It drove me crazy. Obviously, you were thinking about me, but _why_?”

Link sighed and scooted closer to Rhett. “I mean, I don’t know how much you really want to hear about how my marriage fell apart, or how much I want to tell you, but it was right after I started being able to go places by myself. There was this tiny little cafe a couple blocks away, and I’d walk there a few times a week. And Rodrigo was fine with that, but he didn’t want me to start driving again. ‘What if you have a panic attack while you’re driving? Or if you’re out somewhere and I can’t get you?’ He had all these reasons that I shouldn’t.”

“You still don’t,” Rhett pointed out. He put his arm around Link.

“I mean, he wasn’t wrong, but he _was_ an asshole about it.” That was kind of an ongoing thing with Rodrigo. “So I locked myself in the bedroom and got the box out, and I was sorting through the cranes and came across that one. And I thought about you, and I just decided that, you know what, I’m going to do something to reclaim it, if that makes sense? So I looked up your brother’s address and the nearest post office and I walked there and bought a card and a stamp and sent it off.”

Rhett raised his eyebrows and looked impressed. “Okay, I know that was years ago, but I’m really proud of you. I can’t imagine how brave you had to be to do that.”

“I was fucking _terrified_. I can only imagine what the post office lady thought of me. Probably that I was on drugs or something.” Link remembered how shaky he was and how much he’d stuttered. He wouldn’t have blamed her. “But I did it, and nothing bad happened. It was kind of a turning point for me. After that, I knew I could get better.”

Rhett pulled Link into his lap. “I’m so glad you did. I worried about you so much, baby. I mean, I knew you were married, so I hoped you were happy with him, but other than that, I didn’t know _anything_.”

“I’m happier with you.” It was the truth. Link had been more excited the first day that Rhett came to his house than he had been on his wedding day.

“Link! You can’t mean that.”

Link totally meant it. “I do, though. I don’t have to hide anything from you--you were _there_. You know exactly how it was. All the bad parts, and the good parts, too. You understand. No one else does. And you don’t push me past my boundaries, or try to set limits for me. You just accept me, scars and all.”

“When you made your wish that we could be together after everything was done, I wanted it, too, but I didn’t think it was possible. And then you got your throat cut that afternoon, and I _really_ didn’t think it was possible. So after all that, and all this time, for you to still want to be my friend, _more_ than my friend… it’s amazing, Link. I know I saved your life, but you gave me back mine. You’re so brave and smart and beautiful. I never wanted anything more than I wanted to be with you.” Rhett’s cheeks were pink.

“I love you, Rhett. You know that, right?” It wasn’t the first time he’d said it.

“Yeah, but I sure like to hear you say it. Because I love you too, baby. Probably since that very first day.”

Link thought about how gently Rhett had touched his face as he bandaged Link’s cheekbone. “Ha! I knew it.” He shoved Rhett down onto the couch and threw a leg over him. “Not sure when I fell in love with you, but I know when I realized it.”

“When was that?” Rhett had his hands up under Link’s shirt. They were about to break in the new couch, Link just knew it.

“In the hospital, when I woke up from throat surgery. I was just like… well, _shit_! Because there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. So I had to move on.”

“Oh, so Rodrigo was a rebound?” Rhett gave him a faux-thoughtful look.

“Shut up.” Link giggled, because Rhett wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Make me,” Rhett said, and waggled his eyebrows.

“Fine.” Link leaned over to kiss Rhett, to make him stop talking, and thrust against his crotch, to distract him.

It worked wonderfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter, and then an appendix of my google search history for this story.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said one more chapter with yesterday's update, but I split it up.

Link knew he was never going to fully recover from his ordeal. He was always going to have trouble around strangers, he would always have occasional nightmares, his voice was always going to be scratchy. Accepting that had been one of his goals in therapy, and he thought he’d been pretty successful.

But just because he was never going to be one hundred percent was no reason to not keep trying to get better, and now that he had Rhett with him, Link wanted to try new things. Things that scared him, things that he couldn’t do before, things that were outside his comfort zone. Things that took him out of the house.

It was easy to be braver with Rhett around, because, as Link pointed out to him, “You hit Portelli with a crowbar, tore down a wall, and went to prison for five years. For me. I know just how far you’ll go to protect me, Rhett.”

Link’s ultimate goal was to be able to travel to the Hudson River and go tubing, just the way Rhett described it when he helped Link out of his panic attack. He and Rhett spent several months trying different things, like going to see a movie, practicing driving Rhett’s car, and buying groceries at a new store. Some were more successful than others, but Link eventually figured out his limits. 

He absolutely could not deal with unfamiliar, busy places, even with Rhett, even with Jade, even with Valium. 

“Airports and airplanes are like, the epitome of busy, unfamiliar, and uncertain,” Rhett pointed out, but Link had a solution to that.

“I can just charter a private plane.” He burst into laughter at Rhett’s expression. “It’s amazing how many problems you can solve by just throwing a lot of money at them.”


	37. Chapter 37

The Hudson was just as beautiful as Rhett had described. The water was as clear as crystal, the trees were a million different shades of green, and the sky was a bright, luminous blue.

Link barely looked at any of it. He only had eyes for Rhett, who was floating off to his left. Their tubes were connected with a cable, and Link rubbed his thumb on it nervously.

Rhett. His beautiful golden sunshine boy. The one person that Link could rely on, who understood when he woke up gasping from a nightmare, who knew what Link was trying to say even when he couldn’t find the words. Rhett, who’d saved his life at enormous personal cost. Rhett, who had a fluffy little dog and loved his nieces and nephews and still wrote every week to his friends on the inside. Rhett, who was kind and gentle and patient, even when Link had one of his increasingly rare meltdowns.

He was so gorgeous that Link could barely believe it, even when wearing a rented life jacket and sunglasses with a string tied to the arms so he wouldn’t lose them. Link admired the freckles on Rhett’s shoulders and the curls that escaped from the bun stuck through the back of his baseball cap. He trailed his long arms and legs in the water and looked like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Time for Link to wake him up. He licked his lips nervously and rubbed his thumb against the cable again. “So I’ve been thinking.”

Rhett leaned back to dunk his head in the water. “You’re always thinking.”

“I got married before.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that.”

“And it was too fast, and he wasn’t right for me.”

“Uh.” Link could see the exact moment that Rhett figured out what was happening. His eyebrows shot up and his mouth dropped open.

Link didn’t have a ring. He barely had a plan. All he had was his love and a desire to keep Rhett in his life forever, and he already knew Rhett felt the same.

“But this is different. _You’re_ different.” Link grabbed the cable and pulled Rhett’s tube over. He took off his sunglasses. “So, Rhett, I was wondering if maybe you’d like to get married some day?”

Rhett pulled off his own sunglasses. Link could see tears in his eyes. “I… Link. I… yes. Yes, I would like to get married.” He wiped his cheeks and burst into laughter. “I would _love_ to marry you!”

Link joined him. He had everything he ever wanted. For a moment, he wondered if it was worth everything he’d been through, captivity, getting his throat cut, an ill-advised first marriage, living in Minneapolis for four years… He decided it didn’t matter. All those things had happened, and because of them, here he was on this sparkling river with the love of his life.

“Wow. _Married_ ,” Rhett said quietly.

“Yeah, _married_.” And speaking of getting his throat cut… Link giggled. “And I know this is jumping the gun a little, but do you think we should send an announcement to Portelli and the others?”

Their shrieks of happy laughter echoed down the Hudson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, it'll be a long engagement.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone for reading, commenting, etc. The next "chapter" is my search history while writing this story, which probably has me on a list somewhere.


	38. Appendix: My Search History For This Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In no particular order, here is nearly everything I researched for this story. Shout out to the NSA.

About a million queries on the subject of getting your throat cut. Like every possible way you could phrase it  
Ibuprofen overdose  
Fraternity hazing/hazing deaths  
Metadata in photography  
Mens socks moon phases  
Trunk release lever/Janette Fennell  
Industrial engineer user interface  
Backhand slap/pimp slap  
Cars for tall people  
How much does it cost to charter a private jet?  
Can a felon travel out of state?  
Foundation over 5 o’clock shadow  
How long is a california license valid for  
Chauffeur service  
How to get property back from police evidence  
Is ricer/rice rocket racist?  
Chevy impala colors  
Pad thai  
Boil water in prison stinger  
Prison cooking/prison recipes/other variations on that theme  
Bible verses on forgiveness  
Agoraphobia after kidnapping  
Life after being held hostage  
Ptsd dog  
1000 cranes framed  
Disability for ptsd  
Vocal cord surgery/using laser  
San quentin letter rules  
Ptsd dreams/nightmares  
Restorative justice  
Serve on jury after felony  
Parole  
Beau Brummell  
Open larynx injury/can you talk with a cut larynx  
How long does a felony case take?  
Liquid shower soap  
Tallgrass prairie/Jerry Smith Park  
Turn state’s evidence  
The Monkey’s Paw  
Removing steristrips  
Black eye/faded black eye/black eye from breaking nose/etc  
John Paul Getty III  
Slow Horses  
1000 cranes  
Dollar Store/WalMart (lots of dollar store/walmart supplies)  
Subconjunctival bleed  
Stockholm syndrome/Lima syndrome  
ET in blanket  
Sriracha shirt  
Unusual last names  
Old Rag Mountain/rock scramble  
deprogramming/brainwashing  
Ariel Castro kidnappings  
LA newspaper  
Newspaper edge  
How is newspaper made?   
Making origami crane  
Origami engineering  
Avocado green velvet armchair  
Bathing in a mop sink  
Corner mop sink  
Free agent  
Newspaper crane  
Junk mail envelope  
LA to Oakland  
Lazy river  
Yellow rose friendship  
Tracheotomy  
Drywall demo  
Symptoms of blood loss  
Blood transfusion  
Neck brace  
intubation  
Electronic door lock  
Section 8  
50s house  
Ranch house  
Buy one stamp at the post office  
Post office dog  
Love languages/acts of service  
Hotdish  
Mijo  
How to wear scarf for men  
Silk scarf space pattern  
Crab nebula  
Computer Fraud and Abuse Act/cybercrime  
Bonding in traumatic situation  
Benzos for anxiety  
Survivor guilt  
Laryngoscope flexible  
Vocal cord scar  
Hospitality management studies  
Cotton scarf  
Zednik scar  
Clint malarchuk scar  
Neck anatomy  
Speech pathologist  
Toothbrush mustache  
Vocal rest  
Trach stoma closure  
Newspaper grocery ad  
Pocket sewing kit  
Shark eyes jaws  
Ford crown victoria  
Fixer upper style  
Shotgun shack  
Papillon dachshund mix  
Footwell lighting  
prison uniform/jumpsuit  
Duck dynasty beard  
Funnel neck hoodie  
Mens ankle boots  
California dog friendly  
Ramen in prison  
Honda civic carbon fiber rims/spoiler  
Counselor training as a pastor  
Pot roast/dutch oven  
Indoor soccer trickshot  
Tamale  
Esa vest  
Prison visiting room  
Arby’s bag  
17 week fetus size  
Clip art computer  
The hole prison  
Scrabble  
Prison nicknames  
Time served  
Prison computer lab  
Parole  
Modern cravat  
Ted kaczynski  
Throat cut by fish/mackerel  
turtleneck/roll neck sweater  
Skull fracture  
Where do arrestees meet their lawyer  
Guided imagery  
Hudson river  
Tubby tubes  
Side angle pose  
Shell corp  
Throw yourself on the mercy of the court  
Meundies  
Mop clip  
Janitor closet  
Hasp  
Assassination vacation   
Abandoned warehouse  
Conference room  
Does mcdonalds sell newspapers  
Dark web crimes  
Ransom victims returned alive  
Vomiting from head injury  
Chelsea boots  
tycoon/industrialist

**Author's Note:**

> visit me on tumblr @pinecontents


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